"My God!" the stone mason groaned enigmatically.
The sardonic smile spread over his lean face as he further explained himself,—
"It ain't exactly what I took this trip from California for."
"You didn't understand then," the judge remarked.
"And I didn't understand either," Adelle added.
"I guess I could keep you from getting into trouble with your money as well as the next man. I'd keep you out of the hands of the charity grafters anyhow!"
"I think," the judge summed up whimsically, "that you are one of the best persons in the world to advise on how to distribute the Clark millions. That is what should be done with every young anarchist—set him to work spending money on others. He would end up either in prison or among the conservatives."
"But," Adelle demurred finally, "that leaves the others—all the California Clarks—out of it for good."
"Where they belong," put in the mason.
"I'm not so sure of that," the judge added cautiously. And after further reflection he suggested, "Why shouldn't you two make yourselves into a little private and extra-legal Providence for these members of your family? Once, my dear," he said to Adelle, "I did the same for you! At considerable risk to your welfare I intervened and prevented certain greedy rascals from doing your aunt and you out of Clark's Field, you remember?"