"Don't shoot!" whined the man. "Great guns, I ain't done anythin' to you."
"Put that bunch of green goods back into the grip," ordered McGlory.
"Thar she goes," said the man, letting the packet fall into the satchel.
"Now give the grip a shove," continued McGlory, "so it'll be closer to where I'm standing. That's the idea," he added, as the bag came sliding toward him. "Now, pardner, I've got the money and you've got the experience, and things are looking real fine. Who are you, anyhow?"
"Landers," said the man. "I'm in charge o' this boat for Big John."
"Big John, eh? I wonder if that's my friend, Mr. Smith, otherwise Red-whiskers?"
"That's him," answered Landers, "but you ain't no friend o' his, I'll gamble."
"Ain't I?" queried McGlory humorously.
"You're a detective, an' you've come here to bag Big John an' them other coves. But you don't need to bag me. I was only gettin' the money to turn it over to the police."
"Oh, speak to me about that!" chuckled McGlory.