"Aren't you a little premature? My clients don't usually plead poverty until I send in my bill," was the answer. "You own a tolerably extensive holding in Crane Valley, don't you?"
"I do; but nobody, except one man with whom I would not deal, would buy a foot of it just now," I answered. Then, acceding to the other's request, I supported the statement by a brief account of my circumstances. "All this is quite beside the question," I concluded.
"No!" said Dixon. "As a matter of fact, I find it interesting. Won't you go on and bring the story down to the present?"
I did so, and the man's face had changed, growing intent and keen before I concluded.
"I should rather like to manage this affair for you," he said. "My fees!—well, from what one or two people said about you, I can, if necessary, wait for them."
"You will probably never be paid. Who was it sent for you?"
"Charles Steel, who was, however, not quite so frank about finances as you seem to be," was the answer. "It was also curious, or otherwise, that I was requested to see what could be done by two other gentlemen who offered to guarantee expenses. That is about as much as I may tell you. You are not the only person with an interest in the future of the Crane Valley district."
"I seem to be used as a stalking-horse by friends and enemies alike, and get the benefit of the charges each time they miss their aim. The part grows irksome," I said dryly. "However, if you are willing to take the risks, I need capable assistance badly enough."
Dixon seemed quite willing, and asked further questions. "You seem a little bitter against the sergeant. What kind of man is he?" he said. "I mean, has he a tolerably level head, or is he one of the discipline-made machines who can comprehend nothing not included in their code of rules?"
"I used to think him singularly shrewd, but recent events have changed my opinion, and you had better place him in the latter category," I said; and Dixon chuckled over something.