“I have wished to take no action in the matter of Montgomery’s disappearance until I saw you, Marshall,” said the judge.  “I have been sick with this thing!  Now I am going to lay such facts as I have before Moxlow.”

Marshall stared moodily into the fire.  He told himself that the prosecuting attorney would be in great luck if he got anything out of Gilmore.

“I purpose to suggest to Moxlow a fresh line of investigation where this important witness is concerned, and Mr. Gilmore as the man most likely to clear up the mystery surrounding his disappearance from Mount Hope.  We may not be able to get anything very tangible out of him in the way of information, but I imagine we may cause him some little anxiety and annoyance.  You can’t afford to be mixed up in this affair, and I warn you again to stand clear of Gilmore!  If there is any truth in Montgomery’s statement it can only have the most sinister significance, for I don’t need to tell you that some powerful motive must be back of Gilmore’s activity.  If North was not responsible for McBride’s death, where do the indications all point?  Who more likely to commit such a crime than a social outcast—­a man plying an illegal trade in defiance of the laws?”

“Hush!  For God’s sake speak lower!” cried Marshall, giving way to an uncontrollable emotion of terror.

Racked and shaken, he stared about him as if he feared another presence in the room.  The judge leaned forward and rested a thin hand on his son’s knee.

“Marshall, what do you know of Gilmore’s connection with this matter?”

“I want him let alone!  To lay such stress on Montgomery’s drunken talk is absurd!”

The judge’s lips met in a determined line.

“I scarcely expected to hear that from you!  I am not likely, as you know, to be influenced in the discharge of my duty by any private consideration.”

He quitted his chair and stood erect, his figure drawn to its fullest height.

“Wait—­I didn’t mean that,” protested Marshall.

The judge resumed his chair.

“What did you mean?” he asked.

“What’s the use of throwing Moxlow off on a fresh scent?”

“That’s a very remarkable point of view!” said the judge, with a mirthless laugh.

In the utter selfishness that his fear had engendered, it seemed a monstrous thing to Langham that any one should wish to clear North, in whose conviction lay his own salvation.  More than this, he had every reason to hate North, and if he were hanged it would be but a roundabout meting out of justice for that hideous wrong he had done him, the shame of which was ever present.  He saw one other thing clearly, the necessity that Gilmore should be left alone; for the very moment the gambler felt the judge was moving against him, that moment would come his fierce demands that he be called off—­that Marshall quiet him, no matter how.

“Have you been near North since his arrest?” asked the judge, apparently speaking at random.