"What Skinner?"
"William Manning Skinner."
"Never heard of him."
"He's of McLaughlin & Perkins, Inc.,—your old friends."
Jackson pricked up his ears.
"What's he doing here? Does it say?"
"No."
"I know," said Jackson shrewdly. "He's out here after me." He chuckled. "They've been sending emissaries to get me back ever since I quit 'em. Even the partners came out, one at a time. That shows what they think of my trade."
"Skinner's got his wife with him."
"I don't blame him. It's a devilish mean business going on the road without some one to look after you." Jackson paused. "But he can't disguise his fine Italian hand that way. I know those fellows."