"What do you want with me anyhow?" he said. "What's your game?"
"Mine is a surer game than yours," said Garrison, seating himself with his back to the window, and the light therefore all on his visitor's face. "I'm going to tell you first what you are up against."
The man shifted uneasily.
"You haven't got anything to hold me on," he said. "I've got my regular license to follow my trade."
"I was not aware the State was issuing licenses to burglars," said Garrison. "Come, now, with that hand of yours, what's the use of beating around the bush. If my suit-case had nipped you by the wrist instead of the fingers, I'd have captured you red-handed in the act."
The fellow thrust his hand in his pocket. His face, with two days' growth of beard upon it, turned a trifle pale.
"I'd rather work on your side than against you," he ventured. "A man has to make a living."
"You've come around to the point rather more promptly than I expected," said Garrison. "For fear that you may not keep your word, when it comes to a pinch, I'll inform you I can send you up on two separate charges, and I'll do so in a wink, if you try to double-cross me in the slightest particular."
"I haven't done anything but that one job at Branchville," said the man in alarm.
"What are you givin' me now?"