I know. The idea of the governor daring to set
such a fellow as that to cobble shoes!"

"It's queer about the governor," he continued after a pause. "He's
always ready to shell out when I ask him for money, but he keeps poor
John with his nose to the grindstone all the year round. I suppose he
expects me to pay him in glory. He's set his heart on my being a
judge,--Judge Hawthorne of Hollywood. Sounds euphonious, and I verily
believe the old gentleman has begun to roll it like a sweet morsel under
his tongue. Can't say I have a special aptitude for the profession, and
certainly the brains are not in evidence, but I suppose the governor
thinks money will take their place. He has found it takes the place of
most things.

"Sultan, old boy, we seem down on our luck this morning. We had better
take a speeder to raise our spirits. It is hardly the thing for Judge
Hawthorne of Hollywood to envy John Randolph his humdrum life of mending
rakes and shoes," and he urged his horse into a mad gallop.

* * * * *

"I believe I'd like to be poor and work, John," he exclaimed one day.
"It gets tiresome having everything laid ready to your hand, with
nothing to do but take it. Life must be full of snap when you have to
dash your will up against old Dame Fortune and wrest what you want out
of her miserly clutches."

"Yes," said John simply, "Jesus Christ was poor."

"Look here, John. If you don't stop that nonsense, people will be
dubbing you a crank."

"I am ready!" he cried, and there was a strange, exulting ring in his
voice. "They called him mad, you know."

CHAPTER VI.

Evadne found herself one morning in Judge Hildreth's roomy coach-house,
watching Pompey, as he skilfully groomed her uncle's pets.

It had been decided that after the summer holidays, she should become a
member of the fashionable school which Isabelle and Marion attended. In
the meantime she was left almost entirely to her own devices. Her uncle
was away all day, Louis at College, and her aunt busy with social
duties. Her cousins had their own particular friends, who were not slow
to vote the silent girl with the mournful grey eyes, full of dumb
questioning, a bore; while Evadne, accustomed to being her father's
companion in all his scientific researches, found their vapid chatter
wearisome in the extreme.

Horses were a passion with her, and she noted with pleased interest
Pompey's deft manipulations. She stood for a