The Italian thought not. "Well, then," said Wesley, "it all ought to be easy enough. Every bar-keeper knows a lot of drunks that might want to hurt him." Rafael shrugged. "You can feex eet," he said. "Meest' O'Malley say you feex eet easy." "But," replied Dyker, "I don't see how I can act as Mirka's lawyer, unless it is all done quickly. You know, I'm about to be elected magistrate." "Poof!" said Angel, blowing a thin spiral of blue cigarette-smoke. "We gotta da lawyer." "Oh!" Dyker looked up quickly, and quickly down again. "Then you want me--I see." "Good." The prospective magistrate began making rings on the table with his wet glass. "But I should think there were other ways. The man hasn't been arrested yet?" "Naw." "Then why need the police find him?" "Thees O'Malley say eet looka better." "He might jump his bail." "Naw." "It's often done that way." "O'Malley say 'naw'." "Or he might go up for trial. There's no real evidence against him: nobody saw the shot fired. And besides, even if we couldn't fix things in court, which is always easy enough, we could get him a pardon as we did for Pud Morley or Frank Da Silva." But Angel would have none of these propositions. Michael O'Malley was, it seemed, inexorable. There had been enough bail-jumping, queer verdicts, and pardons for a few months. The case must come before the new magistrate, and the new magistrate must declare that the testimony was not sufficient to warrant holding the prisoner for court. "Where is Mirka now?" asked Dyker. "Een Philadelph'," said Angel. "Loafing?" "Naw. He tooka one of heesa girls along. I am takin' care of dees other one." "Can't we get hold of the Dutchman and make him see who's back of all this?" "Naw; dees Dutch' ees a fool." "Won't even be bought?" "Naw." "And can't be scared?" "Naw; I tell you dees Dutch' ees a damn fool." Wesley did not like the plan; he did not like it at all; but he was already harnessed fast, and he had learned that it was best to follow without protest the directing rein. He achieved a smile. "All right," he agreed. The Italian's face lighted with gratification. "You do eet?" he asked. "I'll arrange it; don't worry." "Good! Good! That's good!" Angel's pleasure was so pronounced that Dyker for a moment feared--though it would have made small difference--lest the cadet make to the entire company a public announcement of his promise. He need not, however, have worried. Rafael was wholly used to these legal fictions and to the etiquette that imposed their formal observance; his delight took the shape of an order for another pair of drinks, and, those dispatched, he leisurely got upon his little feet. "Now," said he, "I go. I hava da businesses." He smiled wisely at the concluding word. Wesley also rose. "I'll have to be getting along myself," he remarked. "Ah, but you can stay eef you feel like," said Angel. "I maka you know deesa mens."