"He's as common a white man as ever came out of the hills, but he
appears to stand well with Colonel Fentress."

"Colonel Fentress!" The judge spat in sheer disgust.

"You don't appear to fancy the colonel--" said Mr. Saul.

"I don't fancy wearing a gag--and damned if I do!" cried the
judge.

"Oh, it ain't that exactly; it's just minding your own business.
I reckon you'll find there's lot's to be said in favor of goin'
ca'mly on attending strictly to your own affairs, sir," concluded
Mr. Saul.

Acting on a sudden impulse, the judge turned to the door. The
business and the hope that had brought him there were forgotten.
He muttered something about returning later, and hastily quitted
the office.

"Well, I reckon he's a conundrum too!" reflected Mr. Saul, as the
door swung shut.

In the hall the judge's steps dragged and his head was bowed. He
was busy with his memories, memories that spanned the desolate
waste of years in which he had walked from shame to shame, each
blacker than the last. Then passion shook him.

"Damn him--may God-for ever damn him 1" he cried under his
breath, in a fierce whisper.