"Your four hundred dollars, David, will barely get you through the first year. After that, I shall gladly pay your expenses, for as soon as you are admitted to the bar you are to come into my office, of course." David demurred. "I shall work my way through college," he said firmly. He next told Barnabas of his intention and the Judge's offer which he had declined. "I'm glad you refused, Dave. You'll only be in his office till you're ripe fer what I kin make you. I've larnt that the law is a good foundation as a sure steppin' stone tew it, so you kin hev a taste of it. But the Jedge ain't a-goin' to pay yer expenses." "I don't mean that he shall," replied David. "I want to pay my own way." "I'm a-goin' to send you tew college and send you right. No starvin' and garret plan fer you. I've let Joe and the Jedge do fer you as much as they're a-goin' to, but you're mine from now on. It's what I'd do fer my own son if he cared fer books, and you're as near to me ez ef you were my son." "It's too much, Uncle Barnabas." "And, David," he continued, unheeding the interruption, "I hope you'll really be my son some day." A look of such exquisite happiness came into the young eyes that Barnabas put out his hand silently. In the firm hand-clasp they both understood. "I am not going to let you help me through college, though, Uncle Barnabas. It has always been my dream to earn my own education. When you pay for anything yourself, it seems so much more your own than when it's a gift." "Let him, Barnabas," again counseled Uncle Larimy. "Folks must feed diff'rent. Thar's the sweet-fed which must allers hev sugar, but salt's the savor for Dave. He's the kind that flourishes best in the shade." Janey wrote to Joe of David's plan, and there promptly came a check for one thousand dollars, which David as promptly returned. CHAPTER II