"Yes, boss; he sent for me, see? I had to go!" explained Montgomery.
"Why did you go there without letting me know, you drunken loafer?" stormed Gilmore.
He took the handy-man by the arm and pushed him into a chair, then he stood above him, black-browed and menacing.
"Boss, don't you blame me, it was my old woman; she wants me home with the kids and her, and the judge, he says I got to go!"
"If he wants to know why I'm keeping you here, send him round to me!" said Gilmore.
"All right, I will." And Montgomery staggered to his feet.
But Gilmore pushed him back into his chair.
"What else did you talk about besides your old woman?" asked the gambler, after an oppressive silence in which Montgomery heard only the thump of his heart against his ribs.
"I told him you'd always been like a father to me—" said the handy-man, ready to weep.
"I'm obliged to you for that!" replied Gilmore with a smile of grim humor.