"I forgot to tell you about the money. I've got a good deal from them since I started. They paid me on a sliding scale, beginning with fifteen hundred dollars a week and ending with two thousand that Cliff paid me this evening. I've got it all with me." Prom his secret pocket Johnny drew all his wealth, counted off four hundred dollars and handed the rest to his inquisitor. "This four hundred dollars is my own, that I brought from Arizona," he explained, flushing a little under the keen eyes of Captain Riley. "This is honest money; the rest is what they paid me for flying back and forth across the line." The commandant turned the big roll of bank notes over, looking at it quizzically. "Who is really entitled to this money?" he asked Johnny crisply. "Well, I--I don't know, sir. It's what they paid me for flying." "And did you fly as agreed upon?" "Yes, sir; I made trips back and forth whenever Cliff wanted me to. That is, up to the time I lit out for here, so you could see for yourself what he's up to. He ordered me to go back to Schwab's place, but I wouldn't. I--I knocked him on the head and came on. But until then I flew as agreed upon." "Do you feel that you earned this money?" "Well--taking everything into consideration--yes, sir, I do. I think now I worked for them much cheaper than any other aviator would have done. "Yes. Well, you spoke of that four hundred being honest money, thus differentiating it from this money. Don't you consider this is honest money? What do you mean by honest?" Johnny flushed unhappily. "Well, it's kinda hard to explain, but I guess I meant that I wasn't doing the right thing when I was earning that money you've got. I meant it wasn't clean money, the way I look at it now. Because it was crooks I was working for, and I don't know how they got it. I worked honestly for it, for them, but the work wasn't honest with the government. It's kinda hard--" "I think I'll just give you a receipt for this. How much is it?" "There ought to be about seventy-two hundred there, all told, sir." Captain Riley looked at him queerly and proceeded to count the astounding wealth of John Ivan Jewel. Then he very matter-of-factly wrote a receipt, which Johnny accepted with humility, not at all sure of what the captain thought or intended. "Now, tell me this. Is this young man---the one you brought in--is he the only one you know who has been concerned in this--er--business? "Yes, sir, on this side he is. Cliff spoke about his boss several times, but he never told me who his boss was. An International News Syndicate, he claimed. But I know now that was just a stall. I don't think there was any such thing. There's a Mexican, Mateo, down where we kept the plane--" "Mateo--yes, we have Mateo." Captain Riley sat drumming his fingers gently on the table, studying Johnny with his chin dropped a little so that he looked up under his eyebrows, which grew long, unruly hairs here and there.