at such was its best possible use.

Philip Alston, also, was regarding William Pressley with rather an
inscrutable look. But his estimate and understanding were fairer than
Ruth's, for the reason that he could come nearer to giving the young man
his due. He knew that William Pressley was honest and sincere in his
vanity and conceit, and was assured that these traits were the worst he
possessed. Philip Alston knew men, and he had found that those who
honestly thought highly of themselves usually had something, more or
less, to found the opinion upon. He had never known a bad man who
sincerely thought himself a good one. He knew that many dull men really
believed themselves to be intelligent,--but that was a comparatively
harmless mistake,--and he had never observed that a woman thought less
of a man who thought well of himself. Aside from this surface weakness
William Pressley was a most worthy young fellow; far more worthy to be
Ruth's husband than any one else in that rough and thinly settled
country. The nearer the time for the marriage approached, the more
Philip Alston came to believe that he had chosen wisely in selecting
William Pressley. Fully convinced at last that he could not do better
for her future than to intrust it to this serious, conscientious young
man, who was unquestionably fond of her and to whom she was much
attached, he now rested content. He still found, to be sure, some
amusement in the young man's estimate of himself; but he never doubted
its sincerity or questioned its harmlessness. It did not occur to him
that Ruth might be troubled by these matters which merely made him
smile.

There would have been a warning for him in the look which she now gave
William Pressley had he seen it. But he was looking at the judge, who
could not grasp the meaning of what had been said; and he tried again to
put the facts before him, but the judge would not allow him to finish.

"Who says Joe Daviess is going away?" he demanded excitedly. "Why, he
can't leave. It's out of the question. There is nobody to take his
place. We can't spare him. It is preposterous to think of his going to
be slaughtered by those red devils. A man like that! when there are
plenty of no-account wretches good enough to make food for powder. He
mustn't go. The country needs him more here than there--or anywhere. And
I will see him to-morrow, for he is coming; tell him so, by ----!"

"You will have your trouble for nothing, then, sir," s