“There is mystery here,” insisted his wife. “There should be no mystery about business that’s honest!”
“You surely can tell us something to comfort us before you go,” urged Celene, coming dose to me, pleading with her eyes.
But I knew I must stay away from the edges of explanation in her presence; once I got started, I’d be sure to tumble into a mess. I looked over her head.
“We must hurry, Judge!” I warned.
“I know that my husband would never go into any business that isn’t honest,” declared Mrs. Kingsley, beginning to show temper. She faced me and her eyes glittered. “But he is growing old, and his judgment may not be what it was. There are always men trying to lead others into trouble.”
“That’s so,” I admitted.
“Forgive mother if she says anything harsh! But we are in such a state of mind!”
Well, so was I!
“I have mortgaged the home over my head,” cried Mrs. Kingsley. “I have given the money to my husband willingly—but I will not allow thieves to waste it!”
It was about time for me to assert myself a little. The judge was merely working his mouth like a dying fish, and it was plain that he could be no help.