"Well, what do you say—about made up your mind?"
"Pretty much. I'll talk to Mary tonight. I don't think she'll have anything against it. But the women have to be consulted, you know," said Laurence lightly.
"Oh, of course, of course."
The Judge didn't think the women had to be consulted—but then he was a bachelor.
"I really don't see why you should be so good to me—take all this trouble about me," pondered Laurence.
"Well," said the Judge judicially, "it isn't altogether for you, though I may say that I like you, Laurence. But I'm looking out for myself too. I calculate that you're going to be useful to me, you might say a credit to me, if I have anything to do with giving you a start. I see more in you than—well, I think you're one in a thousand. Remember I've seen you grow up, I know pretty much all about you.... I tell you, I felt mighty bad when you marched away. I knew it was right, you had to go, I wouldn't have held you back if I could—and yet I said to myself, ten to one a bullet will pick off that boy instead of some of those lubbers along with him, and I felt bad. Why," the Judge ended pensively, "I thought I knew then about how it feels to have a son go to war—"
Rather startled himself at this touch of sentiment, he flicked the off-horse with his whip, and they dashed into the town at top speed.