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Kester, Vaughan, 1869-1911

"The Prodigal Judge"

He went unwillingly, and he kept his head turned that he
might see what was done, even if he were not to hear what was
said.
"That will do, Hannibal--wait there--don't go any farther!" Betty
called after him when he had reached a point sufficiently distant
to be out of hearing of a conversation carried on in an ordinary
tone. "Now, what is it? Speak quickly if you have anything to
tell me!"
"I got a heap to say," answered the girl with a scowl. Her
manner was still fierce and repellent, and she gave Betty a
certain jealous regard out of her black eyes which the latter was
at a loss to explain. "Where's Mr. Tom?" she demanded.
"Tom? Why, about the place, I suppose--in his office, perhaps."
So it had to do with Tom. . . . Betty felt sudden disgust with
the situation.
"No, he ain't about the place, either! He done struck out for
Memphis two hours after sun-up, and what's more, he ain't coming
back here to-night--" There was a moment of silence. The girl
looked about apprehensively. She continued, fixing her black
eyes on Betty: "You're here alone at Belle Plain--you know what
happened when Mr. Tom started for Memphis last timeI reckon
you-all ain't forgot that!"
Betty felt a pallor steal over her face. She rested a hand that
shook on the trunk of a tree to steady herself. The girl laughed
shortly.
"Don't be so scared; I reckon Belle Plain's as good as his if
anything happened to you?"
By a great effort Betty gained a measure of control over herself.


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