.

COLONEL FENTRESS.
The judge had not forgotten his ghost, the ghost he had seen in Mr.
Saul's office that day he went to the court-house on business for Charley Norton.

Working or idling--principally the latter--drunk or sober--principally the former--the ghost, otherwise Colonel Fentress, had preserved a place in his thoughts, and now as he moved stolidly up the drive toward Fentress' big white house on the hill with Mahaffy, Cavendish, and Yancy trailing in his wake, memories of what had once been living and vital crowded in upon him.

Some sense of the wreck that littered the long years, and the shame of the open shame that had swept away pride and self-respect, came back to him out of the past.
He only paused when he stood on the portico before Fentress' open door.
He glanced about him at the wide fields, bounded by the distant timber lands that hid gloomy bottoms, at the great log barns in the hollow to his right; at the huddle of whitewashed cabins beyond; then with his big fist he reached in and pounded on the door.

The blows echoed loudly through the silent house, and an instant later Fentress' tall, spare figure was seen advancing from the far end of the hall.
"Who is it ?" he asked.
"Judge Price--Colonel Fentress'' said the judge.
"Judge Price," uncertainly, and still advancing.
"I had flattered myself that you must have heard of me," said the judge.
"I think I have," said Fentress, pausing now.
"He thinks he has!" muttered the judge under his breath.
"Will you come in ?" it was more a question than an invitation.
"If you are at liberty." The colonel bowed.