The politician, pulling out a wallet and a mass of papers, spread them out before the gangster.
Greasy Jones read them leisurely. When he had finished he knew that his companion was Mr. Steven Molyneux, prominent Canadian M.P., visiting the Black Elk country for a 'look 'round.'
This was bigger game than the gangster usually dealt with. He was impressed but suspicious.
"Say," he queried, pushing back the papers, "what's the game, anyway? Seems mighty queer that a guy like you wants dealin's with a guy like me. Take care, my gent, who you try any foolishness on. Get me?"
"Suppose I convince you that we have something in common—a good deal, in fact. Will you be satisfied?"
"All depends," said Greasy Jones. "Shoot."
In five minutes' hard talking Mr. Welland convinced the skeptical gangster that he, too, had followed the crooked path very closely in his time.
"That's all right," Greasy admitted, "but you're a straight man now—anyhow, in public. This bein' so, what I want to know is: what's the game? What does a fellah 'way up want with a fellah 'way down, as some folks see it, like me? Is it some little job you've got for me—cut someone's throat, eh?"
Welland smiled.
"No, it isn't. I want to help you."