"So you told him that?"
"I had to tell him somethin'. My old woman made an awful fuss! They had to throw water on her; Shrimp took her home in an express-wagon. Hell, boss, I'm a married man—I got a family! I know what I ought to do, and I'm goin' home, the judge says I got to! Him and me talked it all over, and he's goin' to speak to Marsh about keepin' me here!"
"So you've told him we keep you here?" And the gambler glowered at him. He poured himself a drink of whisky and swallowed it at a gulp. "Well, what else did you tell him?" he asked over the rim of his glass.
"That's about all; only me and the judge understand each other," said the handy-man vaguely.
"Well, it was enough!" rejoined Gilmore. "You are sure you didn't say anything about North?"
Montgomery shook his head in vigorous denial.
"Sure?" repeated Gilmore, his glance intent and piercing. "Sure?"
A sickly pallor was overspreading the handy-man's flame-colored visage. It began at his heavy puffy jaws, and diffused itself about his cheeks. He could feel it spread.
"Sure?" said the gambler. "Sure?"
There was an awful pause. Gilmore carefully replaced his glass on the table, then he roared in a voice of thunder: