"Then you'll rue it mebbe."
"I certainly should if I did. I've got the softest snap but for one thing."
"Wal?"
"An infernal man-tracker from Gotham is out here on my lay. He may prove troublesome."
"I've seen him—Sile Keene."
"Yes. Put him off the track, Perry, and I'll make it an object."
Then the hunter laid a gold eagle in the hand of the tramp. An avaricious gleam filled the man's wicked eyes.
"You can count on me, brother."
"Never mind brothering me. I don't want you to trouble me again, you understand, until—"
"Till that man-tracker goes under?"