"Who was that man?" he asked thickly, resting a shaking hand on
the clerk's arm.
"That?--Oh, that was Colonel Fentress I was just telling you
about." He looked up from his writing. "Hello! You look like
you'd seen a ghost!"
"It's the heat in here--I reckon--" said the judge, and began to
mop his face.
"Ever seen the colonel before?" asked Mr. Saul curiously.
"Who is he?"
"Well, sir, he's one of our leading planters, and a mighty fine
lawyer."
"Has he always lived here?"
"No, he came into the county about ten years ago, and bought a
place called The Oaks, over toward the river."
"Has he--has he a family?" The judge appeared to be having
difficulty with his speech.
"Not that anybody knows of. Some say he's a widower, others
again say he's an old bachelor; but he don't say nothing, for the
colonel is as close as wax about his own affairs. So it's pure
conjecture, sir." There was a brief silence. "The county has
its conundrums, and the colonel's one of them," resumed Mr. Saul.
"Yes?" said the judge.
"The colonel's got his friends, to be sure, but he don't mix much
with the real quality."
"Why not?" asked the judge.
"He's apparently as high-toned a gentleman as you'd meet with
anywhere; polished, sir, so smooth your fingers would slip if you
tried to take hold of him, but it's been commented on that when a
horsethief or counterfeiter gets into trouble the colonel's
always first choice for counsel.
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