The man laughed softly.
“Yeller traffic, an’ spreadin’ out the cop who jumped in on me.”
“Richards sent you along?”
“Sure. He told me to make these hills, where I’d find the shelter I needed fer awhile. I hoofed the railroad to Raeburn, as the feller said, an’ waited around. Then I picked up a boy who put me wise.”
“Yes. Picked you up outside the depôt.”
“By the water-tank. That was how Richards said. I went there each day at noon till he came.”
Jim took down the details, and the crook looked on with a shade of anxiety.
“Say, what’s the game?” he asked sharply, eyeing the book and the man beyond it without friendliness. “Ther’ ain’t no trick in this? If ther’s cross work, I guess——”
“There’s no trickery.” Jim looked squarely into the man’s eyes, which shone fiercely in the lamplight. His own were smiling without warmth. There was something very compelling in them, and the man calmed at once under their regard. “You best understand just how things are here. Any man who’s up against the law in an ordinary way can get shelter here for just as long as he fancies—under conditions. There’s crimes I guess this place is no shelter for. Yours, as Richards has warned me, don’t rank with those crimes. This book is a roaster of the folks who come along. If you need our shelter—and you’re free to come or go when you choose—you’ve got to work for your keep, and will be paid for that work at the ordinary rate of pay. It’s farm and ranch work, cattle raising and grain. If you need to hide years you can stop right here on those terms. If you choose to quit to-morrow you’ll be guided clear, after being blindfold, same as you were brought here. You can go east or west or across the United States border. You’ll have to part with those two guns you’ve got in your pants if you fancy stopping around, though. There’s no need for guns here.”
The crook was on the point of sharp protest, but Jim’s voice anticipated him.