"I want to know."
"I get to needing it about once a day. Three grains will carry me by."
"All right; that's what I want to know. Now listen to me. I'm custodian of this dope, and you'll get your regular ration as long as you stick with me."
"I can always hop a train. This ain't the only hamlet on the map," he reminded me.
"That's always what you can do if you find we can't work together. That's where you've got me if my proposition doesn't sound good."
"What is your proposition?" he asked after a moment.
"Before I tell you, I'm going to give you a few pointers on what you're up against. I don't know how much you know about Old Man Hooper, but I'll bet there's plenty you don't know about."
I proceeded to tell him something of the old man's methods, from the "boomerang" to vicarious murder.
"And he gets away with it?" asked Brower when I had finished.
"He certainly does," said I. "Now," I continued, "you may be solid as a brick church, and your plans may be water-tight, and old Hooper may kill the fatted four-year-old, for all I know. But if I were you, I wouldn't go sasshaying all alone out to Hooper's ranch. It's altogether too blame confiding and innocent."