oly musings
he told himself that here was a woman who was dead game--and a lady,
too, with all the pretty ways and refinements that were so lacking in
the other women he had known.

Montgomery was some two days gone toward the West and Gilmore had
dropped around ostensibly to see Marshall Langham, but in reality to
make love to Marshall Langham's wife, when the judge, looking gray and
old, walked in on the little group unobserved. He paused for an instant
near the door.

Evelyn was seated before the piano and Gilmore was bending above her,
while Marshall, with an unread book in his hands and with a half-smoked
cigar between his teeth, was lounging in front of the fire. The judge's
glance rested questioningly on Gilmore, but only for a moment. Then an
angry flame of recognition colored his thin cheeks.

Aware now of his father's presence, Marshall tossed aside his book and
quitted his chair. For two days he had been dreading this meeting, and
for two days he had done what he could to avert it.

"You must have had a rather cold walk, father; let me draw a chair up
close to the fire for you," he said.

Evelyn had risen to greet the judge, while the gambler turned to give
him an easy nod. A smile hid itself in the shadow of his black mustache;
he was feeling very sure of himself and surer still of Evelyn. The
disfavor or approval of this slight man of sixty meant nothing to him.

"How do you do, sir!" said the judge with icy civility.

Had he met Gilmore on the street he would not have spoken to him. As he
slowly withdrew his eyes from the gambler, he said to his son:

"Can you spare me a moment or two, Marshall?"

"Come into the library," and Marshall led the way from the room.

They walked the length of the hall in silence, Marshall a step or two in
advance of the judge. He knew his father was there on no trivial errand.
This visit was the result of his interview with Joe Montgomery. How
much had the handy-man told him? This was the question that had been
revolving in his mind for the last two days, and he was about to find an
answer to it.

The father and son entered the room, each heavily preoccupied. Marshall
seated himself and stared moodily into the fire. Already the judge had
found a chair and his glance was fixed on the carpet at his feet.
Presently looking up he asked:

"Will you be good enough to tell me what that fellow is doing here?"

"Andy?"

The single word came from Langham as with a weary