lerk's office, heard
of the judge's return. He heard that Charley Norton had left a will;
that Thicket Point went to Miss Malroy; that the Norton cousins in
middle Tennessee were going to put up a fight; that Judge Price had been
retained as counsel by Miss Malroy; that he was authorized to begin an
independent search for Charley Norton's murderer, and was to spare no
expense; that Judge Price was going to pay his debts. Mahaffy grinned at
this and hurried home. He could believe all but the last, that was the
crowning touch of unreality.

The judge explained the situation.

"I wouldn't withhold hope from any man, Solomon; it's the cheapest thing
in the world and the one thing we are most miserly about extending
to our fellows. These people all feel better--and what did it cost
me?--just a little decent consideration; just the knowledge of what the
unavoidable associations of ideas in their own minds would do for them!"

What had seemed the corpse of credit breathed again, and the judge and
Mahaffy immediately embarked upon a characteristic celebration. Early
candlelight found them making a beginning; midnight came--the gray and
purple of dawn--and they were still at it, back of closed doors and
shuttered windows.

CHAPTER XXVI. BETTY LEAVES BELLE PLAIN

Hannibal had devoted himself loyally to the judge's glorification, and
Betty heard all about the letter, the snuffing of the candles and the
reward of five thousand dollars. It vastly increased the child's sense
of importance and satisfaction when he discovered she had known nothing
of these matters until he told her of them.

"Why, where would Judge Price get so much money, Hannibal?" she asked,
greatly astonished.

"He won't have to get it, Miss Betty; Mr. Mahaffy says he don't reckon
no one will ever tell who wrote the letter--he 'lows the man who done
that will keep pretty mum--he just dassent tell!" the boy explained.

"No, I suppose not--" and Betty saw that perhaps, after all, the judge
had not assumed any very great financial responsibility. "He can't be a
coward, though, Hannibal!" she added, for she understood that the risk
of personal violence which he ran was quite genuine. She had formed her
own unsympathetic estimate of him that day at Boggs' race-track; Mahaffy
in his blackest hour could have added nothing to it. Twice since then
she had met him in Raleigh, which had only served to fix that first
impression.

"Miss Betty, he's just like