vendish, who still
continued to regard the judge with unmixed astonishment, first cocking
his shaggy head on one side and then on the other, his bleached eyes
narrowed to a slit. Now and then he favored the austere Mahaffy with a
fleeting glance. He seemed intuitively to understand the comradeship of
their degradation.

"Mr. Cavendish fetched me here on his raft. We tied up to the sho' this
morning. It was there we met Mr. Carrington--I'd knowed him slightly
back yonder in No'th Carolina," continued Yancy. "He said I'd find
Hannibal with you. I was counting a heap on seeing my nevvy."

Carrington, no longer able to control himself, swung about on his heel.

"What's been done?" he asked, with fierce repression. "What's going to
be done? Don't you know that every second is precious?"

"I am about to conclude my investigations, sir," said the judge with
dignity.

Carrington stepped to the door. After all, what was there to expect of
these men? Whatever their interest, it was plainly centered in the boy.
He passed out into the hall.

As the door closed on him the judge turned again to the Scratch Hiller.

"Mr. Yancy, Mr. Mahaffy and I hold your nephew in the tenderest regard,
he has been our constant companion ever since you were lost to him. In
this crisis you may rely upon us; we are committed to his recovery,
no matter what it involves." The judge's tone was one of unalterable
resolution.

"I reckon you-all have been mighty good and kind to him," said Yancy
huskily.

"We have endeavored to be, Mr. Yancy--indeed I had formed the resolution
legally to adopt him should you not come to claim him. I should have
given him my name, and made him my heir. His education has already
begun, under my supervision," and the judge, remembering the high use to
which he had dedicated one of Pegloe's trade labels, fairly glowed with
philanthropic fervor.

"Think of that!" murmured Yancy softly. He was deeply moved. So was Mr.
Cavendish, who was gifted with a wealth of ready sympathy. He thrust out
a hardened hand to the judge.

"Shake!" he said. "You're a heap better than you look." A thin ripple
of laughter escaped Mahaffy, but the judge accepted Chills and Fever's
proffered hand. He understood that here was a simple genuine soul.

"Price, isn't it important for us to know why Mr. Yancy thinks the boy
has been taken back to North Carolina?" said Mahaffy.

"Just what kin is Hannibal to you, Mr. Yancy?" asked the judge resum