table, then he roared in a voice of thunder:

"Stand up, you hound!"

Montgomery realized that the consequences of his treachery were to be
swift and terrible. He came slowly to his feet, but no sooner had he
gained them than Gilmore drove his fist into his face, and he collapsed
on his chair.

"Stand up!" roared Gilmore again.

And again Montgomery came erect only to be knocked back into a sitting
posture, with a long gash across his jaw where the gambler's diamond
ring had left its mark.

"I tell you, stand up!" cried Gilmore.

Reaching forward he seized Montgomery by the throat with his left hand
and jerked him to his feet, then holding him so, he coolly battered his
face with his free hand.

"For God's sake, quit, boss--you're killin' me!" cried Joe, as he vainly
sought to protect his face with his arms.

But Mr. Gilmore had a primitive prejudice in favor of brute force, and
the cruel blows continued until Montgomery seemed to lose power even to
attempt to shield himself; his great hands hung helpless at his side and
his head fell over on his shoulder. Seeing which the gambler released
his victim, who, limp and quivering, dropped to the floor.

Still crazed with rage, Gilmore kicked the handy-man into a corner, and
turning poured himself still another drink of whisky. If he had spoken
then of what was uppermost in his mind, it would have been to complain
of the rotten luck which in so ticklish a business had furnished him
with fools and sots for associates. He should have known better than to
have trusted drunken Joe Montgomery; he should have kept out of the
whole business--

With the suddenness of revelation he realized his own predicament, but
with the realization came the knowledge that he was now hopelessly
involved; that he could not go back; that he must go on, or--here he
threw back his shoulders as though to cast off his evil forebodings--or
between the dusk of one day and the dawn of another, he might disappear
from Mount Hope.

With this cheering possibility in mind, he picked up the glass of whisky
beside him and emptied it at a single draught, then he put on his
overcoat and hat and went from the room, locking the door behind him.

Presently the wretched heap on the floor stirred and moaned feebly, and
then lay still. A little later it moaned again. Lifting his head he
stared vacantly about him.

"Boss--" he began in a tone of entreaty, but realizing that he was
alone he fell weakly t