"I don't think," said the stranger, "that this transaction is going through." He stepped so close we were almost jaw to jaw. "Let me see your identity tag."
"Who are you trying to impersonate?" I said.
"A common ordinary rancher," he replied, flashing his badge. "Now let's see your identification."
"Certainly." I showed him my false wrist tag.
"Donald Simpson, I see." He stared at me through narrowed eyes. "Where did you find that, Mr. Sponsor?"
"Sponsor? Is that the guy you're looking for? I have about a dozen other documents to prove I'm Simpson. If you have the patience to look at them."
I opened the briefcase and handed him the packet. They had cost me thousands and they were awfully good forgeries. They slowed the detective down quite a bit.
"Why are you offering that kind of money to get the lady on board?"
"Because I'm awfully anxious to get rid of her."
"You didn't happen to put a kid aboard that ship too, for the same reason?"