k you're straight--although you
must admit the evidence is rather against you.

"I happened to be right close when you drove down in here and stopped.
As a matter of fact, I was behind that little clump of junipers. Had
you driven around them instead of stopping this side, you couldn't have
failed to see me.

"You came down here mad at the trick that had been played you. You were
so mad, you started talking to yourself as a safety valve--blowing off
mental steam. You've spent a lot of time in the desert--alone. Men
like that frequently talk aloud their thoughts, just to hear a human
voice. You made matters pretty plain to me before you knew there was
any one within miles of you. For instance, you're not at all sure this
car you've got wasn't stolen. You're inclined to think it was. You're
broke--robbed, I take it, by the men who somehow managed to leave you
with the car and a load of booze on your hands. The trick must have
been turned this morning; down at the railroad, I imagine--because you
hadn't taken time to stop and size up the predicament you were in until
you got here.

"Your main idea was to get off somewhere out of sight. You were
scared. You didn't hear me behind you until I spoke--which proves
you're a green hand at dodging. And that, Ryan, is a very good
recommendation to a man in my line of work. But you're shrewd, and
you're game--dead game. You're a peach at thinking up schemes to get
yourself out of a hole. Of course, being new at it, you don't think
quite far enough. For instance, because you found me afoot it never
occurred to you that I might know something about a car; but the rest
of your plan was a dandy.

"Your idea of backing down there around the turn and burying the booze
was all right. With almost any other man it would have worked. Once
you got that hootch off your mind, I rather think you'd have been glad
to have me along with you, instead of giving me broad hints to leave.
But you haven't got the booze buried yet, and you've been figuring all
the evening. You don't see how the devil you're going to manage it
with me around.

"I'll do a little more guessing, now: I guess you've doped it out that
you'll pack the bedroll up here, tuck me in and pray to the Lord I'll
sleep sound. You're hoping you can cache the booze and make your
getaway while I've gone bye-low. Or possibly, if you got the booze put
away safe from my prying eyes, you might come back to bed and I'd fin