"Come along, boss, I'm in a terrible hurry!" said Joe eagerly.
But Langham was a pace or two in advance of him when they stepped out on the bridge. Never once did he glance in the handy-man's direction. Had he done so, Montgomery must have been aware that his face showed bloodless in the moonlight, while his sunken eyes blazed with an unaccustomed fire.
"I can't walk these ties, Joe—give me your hand—" he managed to say.
Joe did as he desired, and as the lawyer's slim fingers closed about his great fist he was conscious that a cold moisture covered them. He could only think of a dead man's hand.
"What's wrong with the baby, Joe?" Langham asked.
"Seems like it's got a croup," said Joe promptly.
"That's too bad—"
"Yes, it's a hell of a pity," agreed Montgomery.
He was furtively watching Langham out of the corners of his beady blue eyes; his inner sense of things told him it was well to do this. They took half a dozen steps and Langham released Joe's hand.
"I wonder if I can manage this alone!" he said. But apparently the attempt was a failure, for he quickly rested his hand on his companion's massive shoulder.