month in one of these fashionable hotels would just
about kill me. Having to order things written out on a card and eat 'em
with a hundred folks looking on--there's no comfort in it. Give me a
place where you can all sit up together round the table and smell the
good hot coffee and biscuit cooking and the ham and chicken being fried
in the kitchen."

Sheba had cooked the supper in Miss Burford's kitchen. Her hot biscuits
and coffee were made after Mornin's most respected recipes, and her
housewifely air was tenderly anxious.

"If it is not very good, Judge Rutherford," she said, standing shyly at
the head of the table before she took her place, "it is because I am only
learning."

"You have learned, Sheba," said the Judge, looking at the plate of light
golden brown and cream white biscuit with the sensitive eye of a
connoisseur. "That plate of biscuit is Barnesville and Sophrony all
over."

Sheba blushed with joy.

"Oh, Uncle Tom," she said; "do you think it is? I should so like to
remind him of Barnesville."

"Good Lord!" said the Judge. "Fact is, you've made me feel already as if
Tom Scott might break out yelling in the back yard any minute."

After the supper was over and the table clear the party of four sat down
to talk business and make plans. The entire inexperience of the claimants
was an obstacle in their path, but Judge Rutherford, though not greatly
wiser than themselves, had means of gaining information which would be of
value. As he looked over the papers and learned the details of the story,
the good fellow's interest mounted to excitement. He rubbed his head and
grew flushed and bright of eye.

"By Jupiter, Tom!" he exclaimed, "I believe I can be of some use to
you--I swear I believe I can. I haven't had much experience, but I've
seen something of this claim business, and if I set my wits to work I can
find out from other fellows who know more. I'll--" After a moment's
reflection. "I'll have a talk with Farquhar to-morrow. That's what I'll
do. Great Scott!" in a beaming outburst, "if I could push it through for
you, how pleased Jenny would be."

When he went away Tom accompanied him downstairs. Sheba and Rupert
followed them, and all three found themselves lured out into the moonlit
night to saunter with him a few yards down the light avenue, talking
still about their fairy story. The Judge himself was as fascinated by it
as if he had been a child.

"Why, it's such a good story to tell," he