They were back before the place in which they had been arrested. Murphy turned, guiding John by the arm with him. "Now keep your trap shut and let me do da talkin', see?" he admonished as they went through the swinging doors. Inside things were exactly as they had been before the raid, except that there were twice as many in the long room. John recognized the red-faced man in the brown check suit and the greasy derby hat who had helped him on to the truck as he stood at the bar, a glass of near-beer in front of him and chatting with the bartender, who was pulling on his white coat again. Murphy led him to the back room and rapped on a door. "Come in," a voice called. Murphy opened the door and entered, beckoning to John with a jerk of the head to follow him. CHAPTER XII The room was small and dark, the only light coming from an electric lamp over an old-fashioned, battered roll-top desk that completely filled the wall at one end. Between John and Murphy and the desk was a scarred oak table behind which sat a thin-faced man, an unlighted cigar protruding from a corner of his mouth. "Shut the door," said the man, without removing the cigar. John closed the door. "Who's this with you, Murphy?" the man snapped out his words and eyed John keenly. "He's all right, Slim," Murphy replied. "Sure?" asked "Slim," quizzically. "I ain't gonna let anybody fool you or me, am I, Slim?" "Not if you want to stay alive," returned "Slim." "Was he picked up in the raid, too?" "He was wit me all through it," said Murphy. "All right, then, I'll take your word for it, Murphy," said the man behind the desk. "But remember, if he's a stoolie, you're the bird that's going to get it." "Don't I know?" Murphy assured him. "Where's your tag?" asked "Slim." Murphy produced the receipt for his bail money and tossed it on the table. "Slim" examined it and then, without looking up, asked: "And where's yours?" John noticed Murphy's almost imperceptible jerk of his head. He drew his bail receipt from his pocket and tossed it on the table as Murphy had done. Holding the slip of paper in both hands "Slim" examined it closely, looked up inquiringly at John, and then reached into his pocket, bringing forth a thick roll of bills. He snapped the rubber band from the roll and extracted from it four bills. Returning the roll to his pocket he divided the four bills equally and pushed them across the table. Murphy took two of the bills and John reached out his hand for the other two. As his fingers touched the bills, "Slim's" hand closed down on them. "Just a minute," he heard "Slim" say. His nerves jerked tight as he looked down into the thin, hard face of the man in the chair. For two or three seconds they looked into each other's eyes. Then "Slim" spoke. "You're on the square with Murphy and me?" he asked. John nodded his head. "Slim" still held his hand on the bills. "Say it," he demanded. "I'm on the square with you," John said.