"

"Oh. So you waited around for--me?"

Fyles understood the type of man he was dealing with. The half-breed
was a life study of his. In the great West he was always of more
interest to the police than any white man.

"We mostly wait around for the p'lice when we want to get out of
business," the man replied with meaning.

"Yes, some folks find it difficult getting out of business without the
help of the police."

"Sure," returned Pete easily. "They need to do it right. They need to
make things square."

"For themselves?"

"Jest so--for 'emselves."

The half-breed leaned over his horse's shoulder and spat. Then he
ostentatiously returned the gun he was holding to its holster.

"Maybe I'll need him no more," he said, with an obviously insincere
sigh.

Fyles was quite undeceived.

"Surely--if you're going out of business. What's your--business?"

The man laughed.

"I used to be runnin' whisky." Then he chuckled softly. "Y'see, that
chu'ch has got a hold on me. I'm feelin' that pious I can't bear the
thought of runnin' whisky--an' I can't bear the thought of--other folk
runnin' it. No, I'm quittin' that bizness. I'm jest goin' in fer
straight buyin' and sellin'--inside the law."

Fyles was watching the man closely in the dim night light. He knew
exactly what the man was there for now. Furthermore he knew precisely
how to deal with him. He was weighing in his mind the extent to which
he could trust him. His detestation of the race increased, while yet
every nerve was alert to miss no chance.

"Straight buying and selling is good when you've found a buyer, and
got--something to sell," he said.

The man shrugged.

"I sure got something to sell, an' I guess you ought to be the buyer."

Fyles nodded.

"I mostly buy--what I need. What's your line?"

Again the man laughed. His uneasiness had passed. He felt they
understood each other.

"Mostly hot air," he said carelessly.

Fyles hated the man's contemplated treachery. However, his duty was
plain.

"Well, I might buy hot air--if it's right, and the price is right."

The man turned with an alert look and peered into the police officer's
face.

"They're both right," he said sharply. Then his manner changed
abruptly to one of hot intensity. "Here let's quit talkin' fool stuff.
I can tell you what you're needin' to know. And I'll tell you, if
you'll pass me over, and let me quit clear without a question. I need
to get across the border--an' I don't