This cold-blooded courtesy brought Dick near to shuddering again. But he straightened up in his chair and prepared to listen. “You say you are the man known as Whiskey Jim?” “Yes. That is the name the papers have given to the whole organization, and the organization, of course, is me.” “Would you mind talking rather slowly? I know shorthand, but I'm decidedly out of practice at it.” “Certainly not. Suppose I explain the organization in a few words.” “That 'll do first-rate.” “If I forget and get to going too fast, just stop me. You see, as master of the _Schmidt_, doing a tramp lumber business all around Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, I was able to run the whole thing at both ends and still keep about my business. I didn't have to use the mails--I didn't have to do a thing that didn't look as solemn and proper as the Methodist minister and his parish calls.” “I see. It was ingenious--no doubt about it.” “To be on the safe side, I located my stills over in Canada.” “I know,--at Burnt Cove.” “Yes; it was about as inaccessible there as any place on the Lakes. And as we didn't try to sell the stuff over there, but shipped it all across to the States, we were really safe enough. I don't know what either country could have done about it, so far as the stills are concerned.” “Suppose I take it up here, Mr. Smiley, do you mind?” “No, go ahead.” “Well, when you had got it put up and ready to ship, you brought it across Lake Huron in Spencer's schooner.” “Yes--yes.” “And at Spencer's it was repacked in the timber.” Henry smiled a little at this. “Some of it was. Of course you know better than to think that what I could bring down in a load of timber once in a month, or two, or three, was my only way of getting the goods to market.” “Oh, yes, of course.” “I have done things on a fairly large scale, you know. But you are right in the main. Spencer's was the distributing point for all our goods. The old man himself was what you might call the shipping clerk of the organization. But we 'll go ahead with the timber scheme. That one line, if you follow it up, will be enough to base your case on, won't it?” “Yes, for the present. Though you were concerned in the attempt to run a pipe line under the Detroit River.” “No, not very deep. I put a little money into it, but when I saw who was running it, I got out. I knew they would get nipped sooner or later. They went at it wrong.” “Well, you brought your loaded timbers to the pier at Lakeville. From there they were hauled by wagons to Captain Stenzenberger's yards. Stenzenberger, working through Mc-Glory, distributed the stuff in Chicago.” Henry shook his head with a touch of impatience. “You're getting off the track there. Stenzenberger had nothing to do with it. I fooled him through some of his men.” Beveridge looked incredulous. “So that's the way you want it to go down, is it?” “That's the way it was.”