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Kester, Vaughan, 1869-1911

"The Prodigal Judge"

That's the idea!
--send him something to eat, something you've made yourself,
he'll appreciate that."
"I'm afraid he couldn't eat it if I did, Tom. It's plain you
have no acquaintance with my cooking," said Betty, laughing.
"Did Norton say if he had any idea as to the identity of the men
who robbed him?" inquired Tom casually.
"Their object wasn't robbery," said Betty.
"No?" Ware's glance was uneasy.
"It seems that some one objects to his coming here, Tom--here to
Belle Plain to see me, I suppose," added Betty. The planter
moved uncomfortably in his seat, refusing to meet her eyes.
"He shouldn't put out a yarn like that, Bet. It isn't just the
thing for a gentleman to do--"
"He isn't putting it out, as you call it! He has told no one, so
far as I know," said Betty quickly. Mr. Ware fell into a
brooding silence. "Of course, Charley wouldn't mention my name
in any such connection!" continued Betty.
"Who cares how often he comes here? You don't, and I don't.
There's more back of this than Charley would want you to know. I
reckon he's got his enemies; some one's had a grudge against him
and taken this way to settle it." The planter's tone and manner
were charged with an unpleasant significance.
"I don't like your hints, Tom," said Betty. Her heightened color
and the light in her eyes warned Tom that he had said enough. In
some haste he finished his second cup of tea, a beverage which he
despised, and after a desultory remark or two, withdrew to his
office.


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