



Produced by Al Haines.




[Illustration: Cover art]




[Illustration: He threw a piece of silver upon the banner of the
salvationists.--_Page_ 180]




                             JUDGE ELBRIDGE


                                   BY

                               OPIE READ



                               AUTHOR Of
                   "AN ARKANSAS PLANTER," "THE WATERS
                       OF CANEY FORK," "A YANKEE
                          FROM THE WEST," ETC.



                         CHICAGO AND NEW YORK:
                    RAND, McNALLY & CO., PUBLISHERS.
                               MDCCCXCIX.




                Copyright, 1899, by Rand, McNally & Co.




                               *CONTENTS*

CHAPTER

      I. THE STUDENT AND THE ORATOR
     II. THE FAMILY JOKE
    III. THE NIGHT CAME BACK WITH A RUSH
     IV. STOOD LOOKING AT THEM
      V. SHE SAID THAT SHE WAS STRONG
     VI. THE WEXTON CLUB
    VII. WENT OUT TO "DIG"
   VIII. SAW THE BLACK FACE, GRIM, WITHOUT A SMILE
     IX. HEARD A GONG IN THE ALLEY
      X. WILLIAM AGREED WITH THE JUDGE
     XI. THE OLD OFFICE
    XII. WALKED AND REPENTED
   XIII. WANTED TO SEE HIS SON
    XIV. A PROPOSITION TO MAKE
     XV. DID NOT TOUCH HER
    XVI. WITH AN EAR TURNED TOWARD THE DOOR
   XVII. LYING ON THE SIDEWALK
  XVIII. MADE HIS PROPOSITION
    XIX. THE GIRL AGAIN
     XX. THE PREACHER CONFESSES
    XXI. UP THE STAIRS AND DOWN AGAIN
   XXII. TOLD HIM GOOD-BYE
  XXIII. THE LIGHT BREAKS
   XXIV. SENT A MESSAGE




                            *ILLUSTRATIONS*

He threw a piece of silver upon the banner of the salvationists...
_Frontispiece_

"Halloa, Goyle," said he.  "Come in."

Goyle began to turn the knob of the safe

"How's everything?" Bodney asked

Bodney took the money

The old man pointed toward the door, and Howard walked slowly out

Bodney struck him in the mouth

The Judge seized the shears and raised them high above his head




                            *JUDGE ELBRIDGE*



                              *CHAPTER I.*

                     *THE STUDENT AND THE ORATOR.*


When John Elbridge retired from the bench, the newspapers said that he
had been an honorable judge.  He was not a pioneer, but had come to
Chicago at a time which we now call an early day, when churches rang
their bells where now there is a jungle of trade, when the legs of the
Giant of the West were in the ache of "growing pains;" at a time when
none but the most visionary dreamed that a mud-hole full of old boots,
dead rats, cats, dogs, could ever be worth a million of dollars.
Elbridge came from Maryland, with a scant wardrobe, a lawyer's diploma,
and the confident ambition of youth.  It was not long before he formed a
copartnership with a young man named Bodney, a Kentuckian, in whose mind
still lived the chimes of Henry Clay's bells--a memory that not so much
fitted him to the law as it atuned him to oratory; but in those days the
bar could be eloquent without inviting the pitying smile which means,
"Oh, yes, it sounds all right, but it's crude."  Elbridge was the
student of the firm, and Bodney the orator, not a bad combination in the
law at that time, for what one did not know the other was prepared to
assert.  They prospered in a way, but never had the forethought to
invest in the magic mud-hole; took wives unto themselves, and, in the
opinion of the "orator," settled down to dull and uneventful honesty.
The years, like racing horses, flew round and round the track, and a
palace of trade grew out of the mud-hole.  Bodney and his wife passed
away, leaving two children, a boy and a girl.  Elbridge had stood at the
bedside of his partner, who was following his wife into the eternal
shadow.  "Don't worry about the children, Dan; they are mine," said the
"student," and the "orator" passed away in peace.  And they were his.
He took them to his home to be brother and sister to his son; and the
years raced round and round the track.

At the time of his retirement from the bench the Judge was asked why he
refused longer to