Gilmore saw that his face was flushed with drink while his eyes shone with a light he had never seen in them before.  He must have been abroad in the storm for some time, for the snow had lodged in the rim of his hat and his shoulders were still white with it; now and again a paroxysm of shivering seized him.

“Whisky chill,” thought the gambler.  “Come in, Marsh!” he said, but Langham seemed to draw back instinctively.

“No, I guess not, Andy!” and a sickly pallor overspread his face.

“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Gilmore.

“I want to see you,” said the other.  “I can’t go home yet.”  He swayed heavily.  “I need to talk to you on a matter of business.  Come on out—­come on off of here;” and he led the way down the porch steps.  “Whom have you in there with you?” he questioned when he had drawn Gilmore a little way along the path.

“The colonel and Watt Harbison.”

“No one else?”

“No.”

“Do they know I’m here?”

“I guess not, they were asleep two minutes ago.”

“That’s good.  I don’t want to see them, I want to see you.”

“Wouldn’t it keep, Marsh?” asked Gilmore.

“No, sir, it wouldn’t keep; I want to tell you just what I think of you, you damn—­”

“Oh, that will keep, Marsh, any time will do for that; anyway, you have told me something like that already!  When you sober up—­”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“I don’t think anything about it.”

“Well, maybe I am, I have been under a strain.  But I’m not too drunk to attend to business; I am never too drunk for that.  I wish to say I have the money—­”

His lips twitched, and Gilmore, watching him furtively, saw that he was again shivering.

“You got what, Marsh?” demanded Gilmore in a whisper.

“The money, the money I owe you!”

“Oh, I see!” He fell back a step and stared at Langham; there was apprehension dawning in his eyes.  “Where did you get it?” he asked.

But Langham shook his head.

“That’s my business; it’s enough for you to get your money.”

“Well, you were quick about it,” said Gilmore, and he rested his hand on the lawyer’s arm.

Langham moved a step aside.

“You threatened me,” he said resentfully, but with drunken dignity.  “You were going to smash me; I wish to say that now you can smash and be damned!  I have the money—­”

“Oh, come, Marsh!  Don’t you feel cut up about that; I didn’t mean to make you mad; you mustn’t hold that against me!”

“You come to my office to-morrow and get your money,” said Langham, still with dignity.  “I’ve been under a great strain getting that money, and now I’m done with you—­”

Gilmore laughed.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You, you fool!  But you aren’t done with me; we’ll be closer friends than ever after this.  Just now you are too funny for me to take seriously.  You go home and sleep off this drunk; that’s my advice to you!  I’d give a good deal to know where you have been and what sort of a fool you have been making of yourself since I saw you last!” added Gilmore.