Hans said grimly, "Find the constable and ask him to accompany us. Then, if there is trouble, and I expect it, we will have the law with us rather than against us."
"Suppose the constable doesn't care to come along?"
"He'll come," Hans promised.
They strolled down the street, stopping in various places, until they found Jake Hillis, the constable Devil Chad had put in office, in the Lake House. The woman who had given Ramsay the steak and then made him wash dishes to pay for it, looked up and smiled. "Hello."
"Hi!" Ramsay grinned.
"You didn't run, after all."
"Nope. I didn't."
The constable, standing at the bar, turned around to face the three. He hooked both thumbs in his belt, letting his fingers dangle. His right hand, Ramsay could not help seeing, was not too far from the pistol that swung from his belt. There was no readable expression on his face, but the woman, who knew him well, went hastily into another room.
Flanked by Ramsay and Pieter, Hans walked directly up to the constable.
"We have something," he said softly, "that demands your attention."