ge ate into his
soul. It cost the husband his place in the world, too--in the end it
made of him a vagabond and a penniless wanderer."

"This is nothing to me," said Fentress.

"Wait!" cried the judge. "About six years ago the woman was seen at her
father's home in North Carolina. I reckon Gatewood had cast her off. She
didn't go back empty-handed. She had run away from her husband with a
child--a girl; after a lapse of twenty years she returned to her
father with a boy of two or three. There are two questions that must be
answered when I find Gatewood: what became of the woman and what became
of the child; are they living or dead; did the daughter grow up and
marry and have a son? When I get my answer it will be time enough to
think of Gatewood's punishment!" The judge leaned forward across the
table, bringing his face close to Fentress' face. "Look at me--do you
know me now?"

But Fentress' expression never altered. The judge fell back a step.

"Fentress, I want the boy," he said quietly.

"What boy?"

"My grandson."

"You are mad! What do I know of him--or you?" Fentress was gaining
courage from the sound of his own voice.

"You know who he is and where he is. Your business relations with
General Ware have put you on the track of the Quintard lands in this
state. You intend to use the boy to gather them in."

"You're mad!" repeated Fentress.

"Unless you bring him to me inside of twenty-four hours I'll smash
you!" roared the judge. "Your name isn't Fentress, it's Gatewood; you've
stolen the name of Fentress, just as you have stolen other things.
What's come of Turberville's wife and child? What's come of
Turberville's money? Damn your soul! I want my grandson! I'll pull you
down and leave you stripped and bare! I'll tell the world the false
friend you've been--the thief you are! I'll strip you and turn you out
of these doors as naked as when you entered the world!" The judge seemed
to tower above Fentress, the man had shot up out of his deep debasement.
"Choose! Choose!" he thundered, his shaggy brows bent in a menacing
frown.

"I know nothing about the boy," said Fentress slowly.

"By God, you lie!" stormed the judge.

"I know nothing about the boy," and Fentress took a step toward the
door.

"Stay where you are!" commanded the judge. "If you attempt to leave this
room to call your niggers I'll kill you on its threshold!"

But Yancy and Cavendish had stepped to the door with an intention that
wa