"Hell!" her cousin was saying explosively, "these people are no better 'n cattle. At least they ought to give 'em a trough to wash in and a place where they could buy decent food."
"A few other things, too, perhaps," the judge added with his gentle smile. "But who will do it? The city is already badly debt-ridden. The owners of the land pay so much in taxes and interest, due to the high price of the land here, that they probably make a bare eight per cent net on their investment."
He looked inquiringly at the young man.
"It's all wrong," the mason retorted heatedly, forgetting that he had hoped to become one of these "owners of the land," and returning to his incipient rebellion at the state of society in which he lived. "Somebody ought to be made to do such things."
The judge smiled finely, merely remarking in a casual tone,—
"It is a very perplexing question, all that, my young friend!"
"But you don't think it's right so," the mason persisted belligerently, thinking to challenge a supporter of things as they are.
"There's very little that is quite right in this world, my boy," the judge replied simply.
"Well, we'd better set out now to make it nearer right," the young man grumbled.
"Oh, yes, that is perfectly sound doctrine.... And shall we begin with Clark's Field?" he asked, turning to Adelle with one of his playful, kindly smiles.