The judge smiled blandly, but somehow the smile reminded Mr. Braden of the engaging facial expression of a scarred old Airedale.
"Perhaps you'll explain the obvious, Braden."
"I don't know why I should explain anything to you. I don't recognize your right to ask me any questions whatever."
"Pshaw!" said the judge. "Think a little, Braden."
Whatever Mr. Braden thought he saw fit to adopt a different tone.
"Just look at the situation from my standpoint," he said. "By their father's untimely death these children are thrown on the world with no ready money whatever. Their only source of income is the ranch, which they are too young and inexperienced to make pay. The only sensible thing to do is to put it into the hands of some competent man, so that it will yield a steady income. Isn't that common sense?"
"As you state it—yes," the judge admitted.
"Ha, of course it is," said Mr. Braden triumphantly. "Then as to the children themselves, I feel my responsibility. They must not be allowed to grow up wild like—er—cayuses, as it were. They must have an education to fit them for the Battle of Life, and as you know they can't get that at a country school. The rental of the ranch, plus the proceeds of a sale of some of the stock could not be better employed than in sending them to some first-class institution. In these days education is the right of every child. It is the key to Success, which, when Opportunity knocks at the door—What the devil are you grinning at?"
"Go on."
"Well, that's all I was going to say," said Mr. Braden whose wings of fancy had suddenly dragged before the old lawyer's cynical smile. "Rent the place; get money; apply the money to educate the children. That's it in a nutshell. Any court would approve such action of an executor."