ing, and vividly bearing in mind Mr. Blodgett's mishap,
alone avoided young Mr. Vane; and escaped through the type-setting room
and down an outside stairway in the rear when that gentleman called.
It gave an ironical turn to the incident that Mr. Pardriff was at the
moment engaged in a "Welcome Home" paragraph meant to be propitiatory.

Austen cared very little for lionizing. He spent most of his time with
young Tom Gaylord, now his father's right-hand man in a tremendous
lumber business. And Tom, albeit he had become so important, habitually
fell once more under the domination of the hero of his youthful days.
Together these two visited haunts of their boyhood, camping and fishing
and scaling mountains, Tom with an eye to lumbering prospects the while.

After a matter of two or three months bad passed away in this pleasant
though unprofitable manner, the Honourable Hilary requested the presence
of his son one morning at his office. This office was in what had once
been a large residence, and from its ample windows you could look out
through the elms on to the square. Old-fashioned bookcases lined with
musty books filled the walls, except where a steel engraving of a legal
light or a railroad map of the State was hung, and the Honourable Hilary
sat in a Windsor chair at a mahogany table in the middle.

The anteroom next door, where the clerks sat, was also a waiting-room
for various individuals from the different parts of the State who
continually sought the counsel's presence.

"Haven't seen much of you since you've be'n home, Austen," his father
remarked as an opening.

"Your--legal business compels you to travel a great deal," answered
Austen, turning from the window and smiling.

"Somewhat," said the Honourable Hilary, on whom this pleasantry was not
lost. "You've be'n travelling on the lumber business, I take it."

"I know more about it than I did," his son admitted.

The Honourable Hilary grunted.

"Caught a good many fish, haven't you?"

Austen crossed the room and sat on the edge of the desk beside his
father's chair.

"See here, Judge," he said, "what are you driving at? Out with it."

"When are you--going back West?" asked Mr. Vane.

Austen did not answer at once, but looked down into his father's
inscrutable face.

"Do you want to get rid of me?" he said.

"Sowed enough wild oats, haven't you?" inquired the father.

"I've sowed a good many," Austen admitted.

"Why not settle down?"

"I h