"Is your husband at home?"
"I believe he is," answered Mrs. Slade. "I think he's somewhere about the house."
"Ask him to step here, will you?"
Mrs. Slade went out. Nearly five minutes went by, during which time Judge Hammond paced the floor of the bar-room uneasily. Then the landlord made his appearance. The free, open, manly, self-satisfied expression of his countenance, which I had remarked on alight ing from the stage in the afternoon, was gone. I noticed at once the change, for it was striking. He did not look steadily into the face of Judge Hammond, who asked him, in a low voice, if his son had been there during the evening.
"He was here," said Slade.
"When?"
"He came in some time after dark and stayed, maybe, an hour."
"And hasn't been here since?"
"It's nearly two hours since he left the bar room," replied the landlord.
