"Yes, I've got you, but I don't want you," said Hod Brooks. "I'm not after you socially, legally, politically, or any other way. I tell you, I'm thinking of those two women who put your son through college--who had all they could do to keep their souls in their bodies, while you lived the way you have lived here. They paid your debts for you--they advanced cash and character _both_ for you--just two poor women. The question now is, How are you going to pay any of your debts? There'll be considerable accrued interest." "I didn't know it all, I tell you," broke out Judge Henderson. "She hasn't spoken to me for years, you might say--we never met. I didn't know the boy was alive--she told me twenty years ago that he'd died, a baby. This has all come up in a day--I've not had time to learn, to think, to plan, to adjust----God! don't you think it's terrible enough, with him there in jail?" "She never asked you for help?" "No, not till yesterday." "She was game. I was sure. That was one reason why I went to that woman night before last and asked her if she'd marry me." "What--you did that?" "I did that! I told her _I_ would take the boy and give him a father. I said I'd even call him my own--I'd come that close to losing my own self-respect in just this one case in the world. But, I told her, of course I couldn't do that unless she was a widow. And, Judge, I learned--from her--that she wasn't a widow. Oh, no, she didn't tell me about you--and I never figured it out all clean till just now--that the late District Judge of this county, and the Senatorial candidate for this State--was the father of the boy, Don Lane. Huh? Oh, stand up to it--you've got to take it. "Now, this boy of yours had no father and two mothers--it's an odd case. But how did I learn who was the father of that boy? Not from Aurora Lane. No, I learned that from the other mother--this morning--Miss Julia. And as soon as I did--as soon as I was convinced I had proofs--I started over to find you." "My God! man, what could you have meant?--You told her you would marry her?" Judge Henderson's sheer astonishment overcame all other emotions. "I meant every word I said. If it could have been humanly possible for me to marry her, I'd have done that. Yes--I wanted to give her her chance. I couldn't give her her chance. It looks as though she didn't have one, never has had, never can have. "Now, if I hadn't seen you last night right where I did--if I didn't believe that somewhere inside of you there was just a trace of manhood--it's not very much--it's damned little--I wouldn't have asked you to come in here to talk. I'd have waited until I got you in the courtroom. I'd have waited until I got you on the platform, and then I'd have taken your heart out in public. I'd have broken you before the people of this town. I'd have flayed you alive and prayed your hide to grow so I could take it off again, and I'd have hung it on the public fence. But, you see--last night----My God!