"Ho--a small child!" cried the judge, laughing. He cocked his
head on one side and surveyed Hannibal Wayne Hazard with a glance
of comic seriousness. "A small child and in God's name what do
you call yourself now? To hear you talk one would think you had
dabbled your feet in the Flood!"

"I'm most ten," said Hannibal, with dignity.

"I can well believe it," responded the judge. "And with this
weight of years, where did you come from and how did you get
here?"

"From across the mountains."

"Alone?"

"No, sir. Mr. Yancy fetched me--part way." The boy's voice
broke when he spoke his Uncle Bob's name, and his eyes swam with
tears, but the judge did not notice this.

"And where are you going?"

"To West Tennessee."

"Have you any friends there?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've money enough to see you through?" and what the judge
intended for a smile of fatherly affection became a leer of