his ego fat each month with higher hopes and more solemn determinations.
Inevitably, as it seemed, both his hole-in-the-wall news shops widened and lengthened into real little stores with considerable stocks upon their shelves. He began to develop a chain of news-and-magazine stands. The shoe-shining parlor grew to ten chairs, and six men bent their backs and agitated their elbows to make dimes for George Judson. From every standpoint the young man flourished. In his plan of life there seemed no flaw.
George had a horse and buggy, with which he drove himself to and fro; he built a stable where the cabbage patch had been. He had the cottage painted and new carpets and curtains added. An up-to-date wheel chair that was the last word in comfort replaced the old one. He bought his father fancy shirts and attractive neckwear.
"Making a darned dude out of me," Malachi used to grumble, though secretly pleased.
George bought pretty dresses for his mother and insisted on her wearing them. His manner toward his parents was dutiful, and yet it was also masterful. He was quiet, thoughtful, considerate—but authoritative. His parents, proud of him as they were, began to be a little in awe of him.
"Ain't it wonderful, the way that boy's come
