Useless! A contest useless. Then--

"I did have some hopes," interrupted Judge Torrey's deliberate, judicial
tones, "but I had to give them up after I talked with Schulze and
President Hargrave. Your father may have been somewhat precipitate,
Arthur, but he was sane when he made that will. He believed his wealth
would be a curse to his children. And--I ain't at all sure he wasn't
right. As I look round this town, this whole country, and see how the
second generation of the rich is rotten with the money-cancer, I feel
that your grand, wise father had one of the visions that come only to
those who are about to leave the world and have their eyes cleared of the
dust of the combat, and their minds cooled of its passions." Here the old
man leaned forward and laid his hand on the knee of the white, haggard
youth. "Arthur," he went on, "your father's mind may have been befogged
by his affections in the years when he was letting his children do as
they pleased, do like most children of the rich. And his mind may have
been befogged by his affections again, _after_ he made that will and went
down into the Dark Valley. But, I tell you, boy, he was sane _when_ he
made that will. He was saner than most men have the strength of mind to
be on the best day of their whole lives."

Arthur was sitting with elbows on the desk; his face stared out, somber
and gaunt, from between his hands. "How much he favors his father,"
thought the old judge. "What a pity it don't go any deeper than looks."
But the effect of the resemblance was sufficient to make it impossible
for him to offer any empty phrases of cheer and consolation. After a long
time the hopeless, dazed expression slowly faded from the young man's
face; in its place came a calm, inscrutable look. The irresponsible boy
was dead; the man had been born--in rancorous bitterness, but in strength
and decision.

It was the man who said, as he rose to depart, "I'll write Dawson that
I've decided to abandon the contest."

"Ask him to return the note," advised Torrey. "But," he added, "I doubt
if he will."

"He won't," said Arthur. "And I'll not ask him. Anyhow, a few dollars
would be of no use to me. I'd only prolong the agony of getting down to
where I've got to go."

"Five thousand dollars is right smart of money," protested the judge. "On
second thought, I guess you'd better let me negotiate with him." The old
man's eyes were sparkling with satisfaction in the phrases that were
form