"Then it's fortunate," said Austen, resolved not to be the necessary
second in a quarrel. He knew his father, and perceived that these
preliminary and caustic openings of his were really olive branches.

"Sometimes I think you might as well be in that outlandish country, for
all I see of you," said the Honourable Hilary.

"You ought to retire from business and try fishing," his son suggested.

The Honourable Hilary sometimes smiled.

"You've got a good brain, Austen, and what's the use of wasting it
chasing cattle and practising with a pistol on your fellow-beings? You
won't have much trouble in getting admitted to the bar. Come into the
office."

Austen did not answer at once. He suspected that it had cost his father
not a little to make these advances.

"Do you believe you and I could get along, Judge? How long do you think
it would last?"

"I've considered that some," answered the Honourable Hilary, "but I won't
last a great while longer myself."

"You're as sound as a bronco," declared Austen, patting him.

"I never was what you might call dissipated," agreed Mr. Vane, "but men
don't go on forever. I've worked hard all my life, and got where I am,
and I've always thought I'd like to hand it on to you. It's a position of
honour and trust, Austen, and one of which any lawyer might be proud."

"My ambition hasn't run in exactly that channel," said his son.

"Didn't know as you had any precise ambition," responded the Honourable
Hilary, "but I never heard of a man refusing to be chief counsel for a
great railroad. I don't say you can be, mind, but I say with work and
brains it's as easy for the son of Hilary Vane as for anybody else."

"I don't know much about the duties of such a position," said Austen,
laughing, "but at all events I shall have time to make up my mind how to
answer Mr. Flint when he comes to me with the proposal. To speak frankly,
Judge, I hadn't thought of spending the whole of what might otherwise
prove a brilliant life in Ripton."

The Honourable Hilary smiled again, and then he grunted.

"I tell you what I'll do," he said; "you come in with me and agree to
stay five years. If you've done well for yourself, and want to go to New
York or some large place at the end of that time, I won't hinder you. But
I feel it my duty to say, if you don't accept my offer, no son of mine
shall inherit what I've laid up by hard labour. It's against American
doctrine, and it's against my principles.