The handy-man was searching his pockets for a fresh match.
"Why have you come back, Joe ?" asked Langham finally, when he could command himself.
Montgomery started violently and his pipe fell from his mouth.
"Is that you, Boss Langham ?" he faltered.
He stared about him seeking to pierce the darkness, fearful that Langham was not alone, that Gilmore might be somewhere near.
"Are you by yourself, boss ?" he asked, and a tremor stole into his hoarse throaty voice.

He still carried the scars of that fearful beating Gilmore had administered.
"Yes," said Langham.

"I'm alone." "I didn't know but Andy Gilmore might be with you, boss," said Montgomery, clearing his throat.
"No, he's not here," replied Langham quietly.

"He's left town." "Yes, but he'll be comin' back!" said the handy-man with a short laugh.
"No, he's gone for good." "Well, I ain't sorry.

I hope to God I never see him again--he beat me up awful! I was as good a friend as he'll ever have; I was a perfect yellow dog to him; he whistled and I jumped, but I'll be damned if I ever jump again! Say, I got about eighteen inches of old gas-pipe slid down my pants leg now for Mr.Andy; one good slug with that, and he won't have no remarks to make about my goin' home to my old woman!" "You won't have to use it." "I'm almost sorry," said Montgomery.
"I suppose that thirst of yours is unimpaired ?" inquired Langham.
His burning eyes never for an instant forsook the dark outline of the handy-man's slouching figure.
"I dunno, boss, I ain't been drinkin' much lately.