The judge continued to stare down at the page.

"Is he a resident of the county?" he asked, at length.

"No, he lives back yonder in North Carolina."

"A hundred thousand acres!" the judge muttered thoughtfully.

"There or thereabouts--yes, sir."

"Who has charge of the land?"

"Colonel Fentress; he was old General Ware's law partner. I've
heard it was the general who got this man Quintard to make the
investment, but that was before my time in these parts."

The judge lapsed into a heavy, brooding silence.

A step sounded in the narrow hall. An instant later the door was
pushed open, and grateful for any interruption that would serve
to take Mr. Saul's attention from himself, the judge abruptly
turned his back on the clerk and began to examine the record
before him. Engrossed in this, he was at first scarcely aware of
the conversation that was being carried on within a few feet of
him. Insensibly, however, the cold, level tones of the voice
that was addressing itself to Mr. Saul quickened the beat of his
pulse, the throb of his heart, and struck back through the years
to a day from which he reckoned time. The heavy, calf-bound
volume in his hand shook like a leaf in a gale. He turned