“Well, I hope he’ll catch hell wherever he is!” said Joe, with a sullen drop to his voice.

“For a while after you left, Joe, they didn’t give me no peace at all—­the police and detectives, I mean—­they was here every day!  And Shrimplin told me they was puttin’ advertisements in the papers all over the country.”

“What for?” inquired Montgomery uneasily.

“They wanted to find out where you’d gone; it seemed like they was determined to get you back as a witness for the trial,” explained Nellie.

Montgomery’s uneasiness increased.  He began to wonder fearfully if he was in any danger, vague forebodings assailed him.  Suppose he was pinched and sent up.  His face blanched and his small blue eyes slid around in their sockets.  Nellie was evidently unaware of the feeling of terror her words had inspired, for she continued: 

“But it didn’t make no difference in the end that you wasn’t here, for everybody says it was you that hanged John North; you get all the credit for that!”

Montgomery’s hands fell at his side.

“Me hanged John North! Me hanged John North!” he repeated.  “But he ain’t hanged—­God A’mighty, he ain’t hanged yet!”

His voice shot up into a wail of horrified protest.  Nellie regarded him with a look of astonishment.  She had been rather sorry for young John North, but she had also felt a certain wifely pride in Joe’s connection with the case.

“No, he ain’t hanged yet but he will be in the morning!” she said.

The handy-man sprang to his feet, knocking over the chair in which he had been seated.

“What’s that?” he roared.

“Why, haven’t you heard?  He’s to be hung in the morning.”

Joe glared at her with starting eyes.

“What will they do that for—­hang him—­hang John North!” He tore off his ragged cap and dashed it to the floor at his feet.  “To hell with Andy Gilmore and to hell with Marsh Langham—­that’s why they drove me out of town—­to hell with ’em both!” he shouted, and his great chest seemed bursting with pent-up fury.

“Why, whatever do you mean, Joe?” cried Nellie.

“He never done it—­you hear me—­and they know it!  You sure you got the straight of this—­they are goin’ to hang young John North?” He seized her roughly by the shoulders.

“Yes—­how you take on, Joe—­”

“Take on!” he shouted.  “You’d take on too if you stood in my place.  You’re sure you know what you’re talkin’ about?”

“I seen the fence around the jail yard where they’re goin’ to hang him; I went over on purpose yesterday with one of the neighbors and took Arthur; I thought it would be improvin’, but he’d seen it before.  There ain’t much he don’t see—­for all I can do he just runs the streets.”

Joe’s resolution had been formed while she was speaking, and now he snatched his ragged cap from the floor.

“You stay right here till I get back!” he said gruffly.