st boy, if I didn't stop bothering him,
that he was just man enough to pay five dollars for the fun of knocking
the front off my face!"

"That was a choice one to hand out to an eldest son, wasn't it, your
Honor?" said the little lamplighter, tugging at his flaxen mustache.

"I just manage to keep a roof over our heads," went on Nellie, "and
without any thanks to him; but he has plenty of money, and where it
comes from I'd like to know, for he ain't done a lick of work in weeks!"

"Fact, Judge!" remarked Mr. Shrimplin. "I've made it my business lately
to keep one eye on Joe. He spends half his time loafin' at Andy
Gilmore's rooms, and the other half gettin' pickled."

"What do you wish me to do?" asked the judge, addressing himself to Mrs.
Montgomery.

"I wish, Judge, that you'd send word to him that you want to see him!"

"And toss a good healthy scare into him!" added Mr. Shrimplin
aggressively.

"But he might not care to respect the summons; there is no reason why he
should," explained the judge.

"If he knows you want to see him, he'll come here fast enough!" said
Nellie.

The judge turned to Shrimplin.

"Will you tell him this, Shrimplin, the first time you see him?"

"Won't I!" said the little lamplighter. "Certainly, Judge--certainly!"
and his agile fancy had already clothed the message in verbiage that
should terrify the delinquent Joe.

"Very well, then; but beyond giving him a word of advice and warning; I
can do nothing."

A night or two later, as the judge, who had spent the evening at
Colonel Harbison's, came to his own gate, he saw a slouching figure
detach itself from the shadows near his front door and advance to meet
him midway of the graveled path that led to the street. It was Joe
Montgomery.

"Well, my man!" said the judge, with some little show of sternness. "I
suppose you received my message?"

Montgomery uncovered his shock of red hair, while his bulk of bone and
muscle actually trembled in the presence of the small but awesome figure
confronting him. He might have crushed the judge with a blow of his huge
fist, but no possible provocation could have induced him to lay hands on
Nellie's powerful ally.

"That skunk Shrimplin says my old woman's been here," he faltered,
"poisonin' your mind agin me!" A sickly grin relaxed his heavy jaws.
"The Lord only knows what she expects of a man--I dunno! The more I try,
the worse she gets; nothin' satisfies her!"

His breath, reeking of