“It’s just a notion of theirs,” replied Montgomery with sudden drunken loyalty.  “And I’ll say this—­money never come so easy—­and stuff to drink!  Andy’s got it scattered all about the place; there ain’t many bars in this here town stocked up like his rooms!”

The judge devoted a moment to a close scrutiny of his caller.

“You are some sort of a relative of Mr. Gilmore’s, are you not?” he asked at length.

“We’re cousins, boss.”

“Why does he wish to keep you away from your family?” the judge spoke after another brief pause.

“It’s my old woman,” and Montgomery favored the judge with a drunken leer.  “Suppose I was to go home full, what’s to hinder her from gettin’ things out of me?  I’m a talker, drunk or sober, and Andy Gilmore knows it—­that’s what he’s afraid of!”

“What have you to tell that could affect Mr. Gilmore?  Do you refer to the gambling that is supposed to go on in his rooms?  If so, he is at needless pains in the matter; Mr. Moxlow will take up his case as soon as the North trial is out of the way.”

Montgomery started, took a forward step, and dropping his voice to an impressive whisper, said: 

“Judge, what are you goin’ to do with young John North?”

“I shall do nothing with John North; it is the law—­society, to which he is accountable,” rejoined the judge.

“Will he be sent up, do you reckon?” asked Montgomery, and his small blue eyes searched the judge’s face eagerly.

“If he is convicted, he will either be sentenced to the penitentiary for a term of years or else hanged.”  The judge spoke without visible feeling.

The effect of his words on the handy-man was singular.  A hoarse exclamation burst from his lips, and his bloated face became pale and drawn.

“You mustn’t do that, boss!” he cried, spreading out his great hands in protest.  “A term of years—­how many’s that?”

“In this particular instance it may mean the rest of his life,” said the judge.

Montgomery threw up his arms in a gesture of despair.

“Don’t you be too rough on him, boss!” he cried.  “For life!” he repeated in a tone of horror.  “But that ain’t what Andy and Marsh tell me; they say his friends will see him through, that he’s got the general back of him, and money—­how’s that, Judge?”

“They are making sport of your ignorance,” said the judge, almost pityingly.

“I’m done with them!” cried Joe Montgomery with a great oath.  He raised one clenched hand and brought it down in the opened palm of the other.  “Andy’s everlastingly lied to me; I won’t help send no man up for life!”

“What do you mean?” demanded the judge, astonished at this sudden outburst, and impressed, in spite of himself, by the man’s earnestness.

“Just what I say, boss!  They can count me out—­I’m agin ’em, I’m agin ’em every time!” And again, as if to give force to his words, he swung his heavy first around and struck the open palm of his other hand a stinging blow.  “Eatin’ and sleepin’, I’m agin ’em!  I ain’t liked the look of this from the first, and now I’m down and out, and they can go to hell for all of me!”