“I didn’t know but Andy Gilmore might be with you, boss,” said Montgomery, clearing his throat.

“No, he’s not here,” replied Langham quietly.  “He’s left town.”

“Yes, but he’ll be comin’ back!” said the handy-man with a short laugh.

“No, he’s gone for good.”

“Well, I ain’t sorry.  I hope to God I never see him again—­he beat me up awful!  I was as good a friend as he’ll ever have; I was a perfect yellow dog to him; he whistled and I jumped, but I’ll be damned if I ever jump again!  Say, I got about eighteen inches of old gas-pipe slid down my pants leg now for Mr. Andy; one good slug with that, and he won’t have no remarks to make about my goin’ home to my old woman!”

“You won’t have to use it.”

“I’m almost sorry,” said Montgomery.

“I suppose that thirst of yours is unimpaired?” inquired Langham.

His burning eyes never for an instant forsook the dark outline of the handy-man’s slouching figure.

“I dunno, boss, I ain’t been drinkin’ much lately.  Liquor’s a bully thing to keep the holes in your pants, and your toes out where you can look at ’em if you want to.  I dunno as I’ll ever take up whisky-drinkin’ again,” concluded Mr. Montgomery, with a self-denying shake of the head.

“Are you glad to be back, Joe?” asked Langham.

It was anything to gain time, he was thinking desperately but to no purpose.

“Glad!  Stick all the cuss words you know in front of that and it will be mild!” cried Montgomery feelingly.  “It’s pitiful the way I been used, just knocked from pillar to post; I’ve seen dogs right here in Mount Hope that had a lot happier time than I’ve been havin’—­and me a married man!  I’ve always tried to be a good husband, I hope there won’t be no call for me to make a rough-house of it to-night!” he added playfully, as he looked off across the bridge.

“I guess not, Joe,” said Langham.

His fears assembled themselves before him like a phantom host.  How was he to deal with the handy-man; how would Gilmore have dealt with him?  Had the time gone by to bully and bribe, or was that still the method by which he could best safeguard his life?

“Say, boss, what they done with young John North?” Montgomery suddenly demanded.

“Nothing yet,” answered Langham after an instant’s pause.

“Ain’t he had his trial?” Montgomery asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, ain’t they done anything with him?  If he ain’t been sent up, he’s been turned loose.”

“Neither, Joe,” rejoined Langham slowly.  “The jury didn’t agree.  His friends are trying to get the judge to dismiss the case.”

“That would suit me bully, boss, if they done that!” cried the handy-man.

Langham caught the tone of relief.

“I don’t want to see him hang; I don’t want to see no one hang, I’m all in favor of livin’, myself.  Say, I had a sweet time out West!  I’d a died yonder; I couldn’t stand it, I had to come back—­just had to!”