locking itself in granite lines.

[29]

“Because, damn it, I’m a Democrat!” said the old man angrily.

“By conviction or habit?”

The judge scowled. “By conviction first, sir, and by habit last, and for good and all, anyway!”

Caleb Trench laughed softly. “Judge,” he said, “what of Jacob Eaton?”

The judge shot a quick look from under scowling brows. “Seen him lately?”

The younger man thought a moment. “Yes, last night. I owed Miss Royall some change and took it to the house. Eaton was there.”

“How much change?” asked Hollis abruptly.

“Six cents.”

“What!”

Trench reddened. “Six cents,” he repeated doggedly.

“And you took it up there and paid Diana Royall?”

“Certainly, Judge, in the drawing-room; she gave me a receipt.”

The judge exploded with laughter; he roared and slapped his knee.

Caleb Trench bore it well, but the color of his eyes, which was blue-gray, became more gray than blue. “I owed it,” he said.

At which the judge laughed more. Then he dropped[30] back into his old attitude and wiped his eyes. “You walked up there—seven miles—to see Diana?”

[30]

Trench stiffened. “No,” he said flatly, “I did not; I’ve got more sense. I know perfectly how Miss Royall estimates a shopkeeper,” he added, with a bitterness which he could not suppress.

The judge looked at him curiously. “How do 

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