"What do you think of young Langham, John? Will he ever be as sharp a
lawyer as the judge?"

"He's counted very brilliant," evaded North.

He rather dreaded the old merchant when his love of gossip got the
better of his usual reserve.

"I hadn't seen the fellow in months to speak to until to-day. He's a
clever talker and has a taking way with him, but if the half I hear is
true, he's going the devil's own gait. He's a pretty good friend to Andy
Gilmore, ain't he--that horse-racing, card-playing neighbor of yours?"
He pushed the bills toward North. "Run them over, John, and see if I
have made any mistake." He slipped off his glasses again and fell to
polishing them with his handkerchief. "It's all right, John?" he asked
at length.

"Yes, quite right, thank you." And North produced the bonds from an
inner pocket of his coat and handed them to McBride.

"So you are going to get out of this place, John? You're going West, you
say. What will you do there?" asked the old merchant as he carefully
examined the bonds.

"I don't know yet."

"I'm trusting you're through with your folly, John; that your crop of
wild oats is in the ground. You've made a grand sowing!"

"I have," answered North, laughing in spite of himself.