"What is it?"
"It has to do with nets and a raid upon them."
"I got no authority over what happens on Lake Michigan."
"Nevertheless, we need a good, honest man of the law with us. And we will pay you well enough."
Jake Hillis shook his head. "I can't go off on any wild goose chases. My duty is to protect this town."
Hans' voice softened even more. "I am asking you again to come with us."
The constable's right thumb slipped from his belt and his hand dropped to the butt of the revolver. His fingers curled around it. As though by accident, Pieter stumbled forward. Strong enough to stop a bull in its tracks, Pieter wrapped his own steel fingers around the constable's right wrist, and when they disengaged the pistol was in Pieter's hand.
"Excuse me!" he said contritely. "I am so clumsy!"
"Well?" Hans inquired.
Jake Hillis looked from one to the other. He was like a drum which almost always must sound the cadence someone else beats. Strength was the only force he recognized, and now he saw himself surrounded by strong, determined men. For a moment he struggled with himself. Then "I'll go," he said.