He bowed with impressive dignity. Susie drew him firmly toward the street. “You mustn’t go in--I ran all the way to stop you in time--you’ll quarrel with the Judge.” “That’s what I came for.” “Well, you musn’t do it. Mama says the Judge has the power to ruin you.” John’s eyes shot a look of red hate toward the house and his strong jaws snapped. “He has done it already, child!” he growled; paused, and changed his tone to a quizzical drawl. “The fact is, Miss Susie, I’ve merely imbibed a little eloquence on purpose to-night to tell this distinguished ornament of the United States Judiciary, without reservation and with due emphasis, just how many kinds of a scoundrel he really is.” “Don’t do it.” “It’s my patriotic duty.” “But you’ll fight.” “Far from it, Miss Susie. I may thrash the Judge incidentally during our talk, but there will be no fight.” “Please don’t go in, Mr. John!” she pleaded softly. “I must, child,” he answered, smilingly but firmly. “Old Butler to-day used his arbitrary power to disbar me from the practice of law. If that order stands, I’m a pauper. I already owe your mother for two months’ board.” “We don’t want the money,” eagerly broke in the girl. “Two months’ board,” he went on, ignoring her interruption, “for my dear old crazy Dad, helpless as a babe with his faithful servant Alfred who must wait on him--two months’ board for my bouncing brother Billy, an eighteen-year-old cub who never missed a meal--two months’ board for my war-tried appetite that was never known to fail. No, Miss Susie, we can’t impose on the good nature of the widow Wilson and her beautiful daughter who does the work of a slave without wages and without a murmur.” Susie’s eyes suddenly fell. “No, I’ve given Alfred orders to pack. We must move to-morrow.” “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” cried the girl. “You can pay us when you are able. Your father saved us from want during the war. We owe him a debt that can’t be paid. He is no trouble, and Alfred works the garden. Mother loves Billy as if he were my brother. And we are honoured in having you in our home.” The tender gray eyes were lowered again. John looked at her curiously, bowed and kissed her hand. “Thanks, Miss Susie! I appreciate, more than I can tell, your coming alone after me here to-night--a very rash and daring thing for a girl to do in these troublesome times. Such things make a fellow ashamed that he ever took a drink, make him feel that life is always worth the fight--and I’m going to make it to-night--and I’m going to win!” “Then don’t give old Butler the chance to ruin you,” pleaded the gentle voice. “I won’t, my little girl, I won’t--don’t worry! I’ll play my trump card--I’ve got it here.” He fumbled in his pocket and drew out a letter which he crushed nervously in his slender but powerful hand, drawing his tall figure suddenly erect. The girl saw that her pleadings were in vain, and said helplessly: “You won’t come back with me?”