"We are not looking for trouble and the boys won't bother you," said Deering. "What's your business?"
He turned and glanced at Stannard, who said nothing. The mist was getting thin and Deering thought his look strained. Gillane had stopped behind the police, and the sergeant advanced, pulling at his belt.
"I have a warrant, but my hands are frozen and I can't get inside my coat."
"You can show us the warrant later," said Jimmy. "I'm James Leyland, the man you want."
"We don't want you," the sergeant replied.
Jimmy's legs shook and he sat down in the snow. After the long strain, his relief was poignant and reacted on his exhausted body. He gave the sergeant a dull, puzzled look.
"Then whom do you want?"
"Harvey Stannard," said the other, and Stannard turned.
His figure cut the misty background and he carried himself as if he were not disturbed. In fact, Jimmy imagined he had expected something like this.
"I am Stannard. Why do you want me?"