Zorn stopped him. “Pull up, Parker! Suppose there was crooked work—suppose there wasn’t—suppose all the trouble came from a queer accident. I’m not saying which it was. All I am saying is that I can fix your crowd and fix ’em right—clean the slate for ’em—all that. Will you be sensible and make a trade?”
“What kind of a trade?”
Zorn took a step nearer Sam, who was standing on the outer bank of the narrow roadside ditch. The movement brought the two boys very close together.
“This is straight talk—understand? I mean business.”
“All right,” said Sam. “Go on!”
“I’ll see the slate’s cleaned for you and your crowd, if——”
“If what?”
“If you’ll do what I want you to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Back me up. I’ve got some plans. You can help me—you and your gang. You can help me a lot.”