"That's the way all yours get in," grumbled her father.
"Bohunk have big plans," grunted the Indian.
"We know that, but what's eating us is what they are."
"Indian find out."
"Then you'll do more than a squad of Police. But what's the charge?"
He eyed the Indian with suspicion. "They're laying for you, you know."
The Indian smiled scornfully.
"That shows you know the bohunk, friend. Because there's really no need to be afraid if they're afraid of you. It's the nature of the beasts. In three or four days I'll take the starch out of them by hard work, but in the meantime you can help us a lot—and earn enough cartwheels for yourself to keep you in fire-water the rest of your days. Look here"—he smiled magnanimously—"for every bohunk you give me an excuse to hang there's a dollar for you. That's five hundred dollars—and it's yours with my blessing."
"Aren't you extravagant?" asked Tressa slyly.
He regarded his daughter with an injured expression. "You take all the pleasure from my bargains, Tressa. Make it three dollars a day, Big Chief. It sort of makes a man reckless to have his own detective force."
The Indian waited patiently until the torrent of talk ceased.