CHAPTER X

BOON COMPANIONS


Some time later the judge was aware of a step on the path beyond
his door, and glancing up, saw the tall figure of a man pause on
his threshold. A whispered curse slipped from between his lips.
Aloud he said:

"Is that you, Mr. Mahaffy?" He got no reply, but the tall
figure, propelled by very long legs, stalked into the shanty and
a pair of keen, restless eyes deeply set under a high, bald head
were bent curiously upon him.

"I take it I'm intruding," the new-comer said sourly.

"Why should you think that, Solomon Mahaffy? When has my door
been closed on you?" the judge asked, but there was a guilty
deepening of the flush on his face. Mr. Mahaffy glanced at the
jug, at the half-emptied glass within convenient reach of the
judge's hand, lastly at the judge himself, on whose flame-colored
visage his eyes rested longest.

"I've heard said there was honor among thieves," he remarked.