ed. "I only been here four hours
or so--this is pastime!"

There was an awkward silence. We in the blue car wanted to know (not
at that time knowing) who was the man in the Cadillac roadster, and how
he happened to know Casey so well. Nolan, no doubt, wanted to know who
we were. And there was so much that Casey wanted to know and needed to
know that he couldn't seem to think of anything. However, Casey was the
hardest to down. He came up to the side of the blue car, reached in
with his hands all greasy black, and took the Little Woman's hand from
the wheel and kissed it. The Little Woman made a caressing sound and
leaned out to him--and Nolan and I felt that we mustn't look. So our
eyes met.

He came around to my side of the car and put out his hand.

"I'm pretty good at guessing," he smiled. "I guess you're Jack
Gleason. Casey has talked of you to me. I'm right glad to meet you,
too. My name is Mack Nolan, and I'm Irish. I'm Casey Ryan's partner.
We have a good--prospect."

Casey looked past the Little Woman and me, straight into Mack Nolan's
eyes. I felt something of an electric quality in the air while their
gaze held.

"I'm just getting back from a trip down in the valley," Nolan observed
easily. "You never did see me in town duds, did you, Casey?" His eyes
went to the Little Woman's face and then to me. "I suppose you know
what this wild Irishman has just pulled off back there," he said,
tilting his head toward San Bernardino, many a mile away to the
southwest. "You wouldn't think it to look at him, but he surely has
thrown a monkey wrench into as pretty a bootlegging machine as there is
in the country. It's such confidential stuff, of course, that you may
call it absolutely secret. But for once I'm telling the truth about it.

"Your husband, Mrs. Casey Ryan, holds a commission from headquarters as
a prohibition officer. A deputy, it is true,--but commissioned
nevertheless. He's just getting back from a very pretty piece of work.
A crooked officer named Smiling Lou was arrested last night. He had all
kinds of liquor cached away in his house. Casey can tell you sometime
how he trapped him.

"Of course, I'm just an amateur mining expert on a vacation, myself."
His eyes met Casey's straight. "I wasn't with him when he pulled the
deal, but I heard about it afterwards, and I knew he was planning
something of the sort when he left camp. How I happened to know about
the commission," he added,