“What’s the matter with you, boss; couldn’t you get across?” asked Joe.

“No, the bridge is too much for me.  Like a fool I stopped here to smoke a cigar after you left me; I hoped it would clear off a bit so I could see the ties, but it’s worse now that I can.  I had about made up my mind to come and get you to help me back into town.”

“Come along, boss, I’m in a terrible hurry!” said Joe eagerly.

But Langham was a pace or two in advance of him when they stepped out on the bridge.  Never once did he glance in the handy-man’s direction.  Had he done so, Montgomery must have been aware that his face showed bloodless in the moonlight, while his sunken eyes blazed with an unaccustomed fire.

“I can’t walk these ties, Joe—­give me your hand—­” he managed to say.

Joe did as he desired, and as the lawyer’s slim fingers closed about his great fist he was conscious that a cold moisture covered them.  He could only think of a dead man’s hand.

“What’s wrong with the baby, Joe?” Langham asked.

“Seems like it’s got a croup,” said Joe promptly.

“That’s too bad—­”

“Yes, it’s a hell of a pity,” agreed Montgomery.

He was furtively watching Langham out of the corners of his beady blue eyes; his inner sense of things told him it was well to do this.  They took half a dozen steps and Langham released Joe’s hand.

“I wonder if I can manage this alone!” he said.  But apparently the attempt was a failure, for he quickly rested his hand on his companion’s massive shoulder.

They had reached the second of the bridge’s three spans.  Below them in the darkness the yellow flood poured in noisy volume.  As Langham knew, here the stream was at its deepest and its current the swiftest.  He knew also that his chance had come; but he dared not make use of it.  The breath whistled from his lips and the moisture came from every pore.  He sought frantically to nerve himself for the supreme moment; but suppose he slipped, or suppose Joe became aware of his purpose one second too soon!

“Keep over a bit, boss!” said the handy-man suddenly.  “You are crowding me off the bridge!”

“Oh, all right; is that better?”

And Langham moved a step aside.

“A whole lot,” responded Joe gruffly.  But his little blue eyes, alert with cunning, were never withdrawn from the lawyer for an instant.

They walked forward in silence for a moment or two, and were approaching the end of the center span, when the lawyer glanced about him wildly; he realized that he was letting slip his one great opportunity.  Again Joe spoke: 

“Keep over, boss!” And then all in the same breath, “What the hell are you up to, anyway?”

It must be now or it would be never; and Langham, turning swiftly, hurled himself on his companion, and his slim fingers with their death-like chill gripped Joe’s hairy throat.  In the suddenness of the attack he was forced toward the edge of the bridge.  The rush of the noisy waters sounded with fearful distinctness in his ears.