"This is like a story in a book," grinned Hardy. "Go on. I suppose I've been takin' Silent's money?" The answer came like the click of a cocked revolver. "You have!" "By God, Calder--" "Steady! I have some promising evidence, partner. Would you like to hear part of it?" "This country has its share of the world's greatest liars," said Hardy, "I don't care what you've heard." "That saves my time. Understand me straight. I can slap you into a lock-up, if I want to, and then bring in that evidence. I'm not going to do it. I'm going to use you as a trap and through you get some of the worst of the lone riders." "There's nothin' like puttin' your hand on the table." "No, there isn't. I'll tell you what you're to do." "Thanks." The marshal drove straight on. "I've got four good men in this town. Two of them will always be hanging around your office. Maybe you can get a job for them here, eh? I'll pay the salaries. You simply tip them off when your visitors are riders the government wants, see? You don't have to lift a hand. You just go to the door as the visitor leaves, and if he's all right you say: 'So long, we'll be meeting again before long.' But if he's a man I want, you say 'Good-bye.' That's all. My boys will see that it is good-bye." "Go on," said the agent, "and tell the rest of the story. It starts well." "Doesn't it?" agreed Calder, "and the way it concludes is with you reaching over and shaking hands with me and saying 'yes'!" He leaned forward. The twinkle was gone from his eyes and he extended his hand to Hardy. The latter reached out with an impulsive gesture, wrung the proffered hand, and then slipping back into his chair broke into hysterical laughter. "The real laugh," said Calder, watching his man narrowly, "will be on the long riders." "Tex," said the agent. "I guess you have the dope. I won't say anything except that I'm glad as hell to be out of the rotten business at last. Once started I couldn't stop. I did one 'favour' for these devils, and after that they had me in their power. I haven't slept for months as I'm going to sleep tonight!" He wiped his face with an agitated hand. "A week ago," he went on, "I knew you were detailed on this work. I've been sweating ever since. Now that you've come--why, I'm glad of it!" A faint sneer touched Calder's mouth and was gone. "You're a wise man," he said. "Have you seen much of Jim Silent lately?" Hardy hesitated. The rôle of informer was new. "Not directly." Calder nodded. "Now put me right if I go off the track. The way I understand it, Jim Silent has about twenty gun fighters and long riders working in gangs under him and combining for big jobs." "That's about it." "The inside circle consists of Silent; Lee Haines, a man who went wrong because the law did _him_ wrong; Hal Purvis, a cunning devil; and Bill Kilduff, a born fighter who loves blood for its own sake." "Right."