THE PRODIGAL JUDGE BY VAUGHAN KESTER




CHAPTER I

THE BOY AT THE BARONY


The Quintards had not prospered on the barren lands of the pine
woods whither they had emigrated to escape the malaria of the low
coast, but this no longer mattered, for the last of his name and
race, old General Quintard, was dead in the great house his
father had built almost a century before and the thin acres of
the Barony, where he had made his last stand against age and
poverty, were to claim him, now that he had given up the struggle
in their midst. The two or three old slaves about the place,
stricken with a sense of the futility of the fight their master
had made, mourned for him and for themselves, but of his own
blood and class none was present.

Shy dwellers from the pine woods, lanky jeans-clad men and
sunbonneted women, who were gathering for the burial of the
famous man of their neighborhood, grouped themselves about the
lawn which had long since sunk to the uses of a pasture lot.
Singly or by twos and threes they stole up the steps and across
the wide porch to the open door. On the right of the long hall
another door stood open, and who wished could enter the
drawing-room, with its splendid green and gold paper, and the