“Boss, did I ever lie to you?” demanded Montgomery.

“If you did I never found you out.”

“And why?  You never had no chance to find me out; for the reason that I always tell you the almighty everlastin’ truth!”

“Well?” prompted Mr. Gilmore.

“Boss,” and again Montgomery dropped his voice to a confidential whisper, “boss, I seen a man climb over old man McBride’s shed yesterday just before six.  I seen him come up on top of the shed from the inside, look all around, slide down to the eaves and drop into the alley, and then streak off as if all hell was after him!”

Gilmore’s features were under such admirable control that they betrayed nothing of what was passing in his mind.

“Stuff!” he ejaculated at last, disdainfully.

“You think I lie, boss?” cried Montgomery, in an intense whisper.

“You know best about that,” said Gilmore quietly.

“He come so close to me I could feel his breath in my face!  Boss, he was puffin’ and pantin’ and his breath burnt,—­yes, sir, it burnt; and I heard him say, ‘Oh, my God!’ like that, ‘Oh, my God!’”

“And where were you when this happened?” demanded Gilmore with sudden sternness.

Montgomery hesitated.

“What’s that got to do with it, boss?”

“A whole lot; come, out with it.  Where were you to see and hear all this?”

“I was in White’s woodshed,” said Montgomery rather sullenly.

“Oh, ho, you were up to your old tricks!”

“He’ll never miss it; I couldn’t freeze to death; there’s a livin’ comin’ to me,” said the handy-man doggedly.

“You’ll probably have a try for it back of iron bars!” said Gilmore.

But it was plain that Montgomery did not enjoy Mr. Gilmore’s humor.

“White’s coal house is right acrost the alley from old McBride’s shed.  You can go look, boss, if you don’t believe me, and there’s a small door opening out on to the alley, where the coal is put in.”

“All the same you should keep out of people’s coal houses, or one of these days you’ll bring off more than you bargained for; say a load of shot.”

“Maybe you’d like to know who I seen come over that roof?” said the handy-man impatiently.

“How many people have you told this yarn to already?” asked Gilmore, who seemed more anxious to discredit the handy-man in his own eyes than anything else.

“Not a living soul, boss; I guess I know enough to hang a man—­”

“Pooh!” said Gilmore.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Yes, I’ll believe that you were stealing White’s coal.”

“Leave me tell it to you just as it happened, boss,” said Montgomery.  “Then if you say I lie, I won’t answer you back; we’ll let it go at that.”

Gilmore appeared to consider for a moment, his look of mingled indifference and contempt had quite passed away.

“I guess it sounds straight, Joe!” he said at length slowly.