“Maybe,” said Sam, watching Mr. Parker craftily. “But what’s it to you? I take it you’re not a government agent?”
“I’m interested in breaking up a gang of leeches—the men who’ve been cleaning this town of tires for the past three months.”
“Those guys are crooks all right,” agreed Sam. “Why the last time they sold me a bunch of tires they charged double. When I wasn’t going to take ’em they said, ‘Either you do, or else!’”
“Did you deal with Ropes Mollinberg?”
“He’s just one of the little fry. What will you give me to spill?”
“Nothing.”
“Will you keep Mattie out of this?”
“If she’s innocent.”
“She is,” insisted Sam. “Supposin’ I tell you how to get the whole gang, will you forget what you’ve seen here?”
“I make no bargains with Black Market dealers,” retorted Mr. Parker. “Either you tell what you know, or I’ll have you and Mattie hauled into court.”