of what he said. "Why won't
they let me go home to my old woman, boss? Why do they keep me at Andy
Gilmore's--why do they give me money? Because what I'm tellin' you is
all a lie, I suppose! Just because they like old Joe Montgomery and want
him 'round! I don't think!" He threw back his head and laughed with
rough sarcasm. "You're a smarter man than me, boss; figure it out; give
a reason for it!"

But the judge, white-faced and shaken to his very soul, was silent; yet
he guessed no part of the terrible truth Montgomery supposed he had made
plain to him. At the most he believed Marshall was shielding Gilmore
from the consequences of a crime the gambler had committed.

Montgomery, sinister and menacing, shuffled across the room and then
back to the judge's side.

"You ask Marsh, boss, what it all means. I got nothin' more to say! Ask
him who killed old man McBride! If he don't know, no man on this green
earth does!"

The judge's face twitched convulsively, but he made no answer to this.

"Ask him!" repeated the handy-man, and swinging awkwardly on his heel
went from the room without a single backward glance.

An instant later the street-door closed with a noisy bang.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AN UNWILLING GUEST

Montgomery told himself he would go home; he had seen the last of the
gambler and Marsh Langham, he would look out for his own skin now and
they could look out for theirs. He laughed boisterously as he strode
along. He had fooled them both; he, Joe Montgomery, had done this, and
by a very master stroke of cunning had tied the judge's hands. But as he
shuffled down the street he saw the welcoming lights of Lonigan's saloon
and suddenly remembered there was good hard money in his ragged pockets.
He would have just one drink and then go home to his old woman.

It was well on toward midnight when he came out on the street again, and
the one drink had become many drinks; still mindful of his original
purpose, however, he reeled across the Square on his way home. He had
just turned into Mulberry Street when he became conscious of a brisk
step on the pavement at his side, and at the same instant a heavy hand
descended on his shoulder and he found himself looking into Andy
Gilmore's dark face.

"Where have you been?" demanded Gilmore. "I thought I told you to stay
about to-night!"

"I have been down to Lonigan's saloon," faltered Joe, his courage going
from him at sight of the gambler.

"What took you t