I don't suppose Casey Ryan had ever looked really scared in his life. His face simply refused to wear so foreign an expression. Therefore, when the spotlight finally revealed him, Casey blinked against it with a half-hearted grin, as if he had been caught at something foolish. The light remained upon him, and Smiling Lou got out of the car and came back to him slowly. Not even Casey thought of calling Smiling Lou a fool. He couldn't be and play the game he was playing. Smiling Lou said nothing whatever until he had looked the car over carefully (giving the license number a second sharp glance) and had regarded Casey fixedly while he made up his mind. "Hullo! Where's your pardner?" he demanded then. "I'm in pardnerships with myself this trip," Casey retorted. He waited while Smiling Lou looked him over again, more carefully this time. "Where did you get that car?" "From Kenner--for sixteen-hundred and seventeen dollars and five cents." Casey fumbled in the blankets--Smiling Lou following his movements suspiciously--and got out the makings of a cigarette. "Got any booze in that car?" Smiling Lou might have been a traffic cop, for all the trace of humanity there was in his voice. Casey cocked an eye up at him, sent a quick glance toward the Ford, and looked back into Smiling Lou's face. He hunched his shoulders and finished the making of his cigarette. "I wisht you wouldn't look," he said glumly. "I got half my outfit in there an' I hate to have it tore up." Smiling Lou continued to look at him, seeming slightly puzzled. But indecision was not one of his characteristics, evidently. He stepped up to the car, pulled a flashlight from his pocket and looked in. Casey was up and into his clothes by the time Smiling Lou had uncovered a box or two. Smiling Lou turned toward him, his lips twitching. "Lift this stuff out of here and put it in my car," he commanded, elation creeping into his voice in spite of himself. "My Lord! The chances you fellows take! Think a dab of paint is going to cover up a brand burnt into the wood?" Casey looked startled, glancing down into the car to where Smiling Lou pointed. "The boards is turned over on all the rest," he muttered confidentially. "I dunno how that darned Canadian Club sign got right side up." "What all have you got?" Smiling Lou lowered his voice when he asked the question. Casey tried not to grin when he replied. Smiling Lou gasped, "Well, get it into my car, and make it snappy." Casey made it as snappy as he could, and kept his face straight until Smiling Lou spoke to him sharply. "I won't take you in to-night with me. I want that car. You drive it into headquarters first thing in the morning. And don't think you can beat it, either. I'll have the road posted. You can knock a good deal off your sentence if you crank up and come in right after breakfast. And make it an early breakfast, too."