The Judge leaned back in his chair and was thoughtful; his cigar had gone out, and he held it listlessly. "Yes, for the others are so happy." He dropped the cigar stub upon the ash tray, roused himself, and said: "Nothing bothers me now. I am out of the current of life; I am in a quiet pool, in the shade; and I don’t regret having passed out of the swift stream where the sun was blazing. No, I am rarely worried. Yes, I am annoyed at times, to be perfectly frank, now, for instance, and by a most peculiar thing. I—er—a friend of mine told me a story that bothers me, although it is but a trifle and shouldn’t worry me at all. He is a lawyer, situated very much as I am. He has been missing money from his safe. No one but himself knows the combination. He couldn’t suspect either of his sons; they didn’t know the combination—not to be considered at all. He doesn’t keep large sums on hand, of course; just enough to accommodate some of his old-fashioned clients who like to do business in the old-fashioned way. It bothered him, for he took it into his head that he himself was getting up at night and in his sleep taking the money from the safe and hiding it somewhere. For years, whenever he has had anything important on hand, he has been in the habit of waking himself at morning with an alarm clock. And I told him to set the clock in the safe and catch himself. He has done better than that—has fixed a gong so that it will ring whenever the inner drawer of the safe is pulled open. Of course, it is nothing to me, but—ah, come in, Agnes." "Your wife has sent a bench warrant for you," said the young woman, entering the room and shaking her finger at the Judge. "To be served by a charming deputy," said Bradley. She laughed. "No wonder preachers catch women," she replied. "I’m glad I struck you. I was afraid I might miss." The Judge arose and bowed to her. "We might dodge an arrow but not a perfume," said he. "Now, Mr. Judge, when did you come from the South?" she cried. "But are you going with me? There are some more people in there; a young fellow that looks like a scared rabbit. But he’s got nerve enough to say cawn’t. I told him that if he’d come to Quincy we’d make him say kain’t." "Well, Bradley," said the Judge, "we are prisoners. Come on." Bradley halted a moment to speak to Agnes. The Judge turned and asked if Howard and George Bodney were in the drawing room. She replied that Howard had gone or was going to a reception and that Mr. Bodney was somewhere about the house. She had seen him passing along the hall with Mr. Goyle. Just then, in evening dress, Howard came into the room. "I thought I heard Florence in here," said he, looking about. "Going to leave us?" said the Judge. "Yes, to bore and be politely bored. I want Florence to see if I look all right."