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 He had not been so much listening to Wickson's argument as considering the state of mind that spoke in the words. He indicated his conclusion when he replied, "I'll put Plummer on your door."

If he had spoken out that conclusion he would have said, "You probably don't much care whether you get shot or not, just at present, but it's my business to see that you're protected."

Wickson did not understand—and did not try to. "Tim," he asked, "what do you think about things—the way they are in this town? What the devil can we do?"

The detective rubbed his palms on his thick knees. "I guess," he said, "the trouble with me is I don't get time to think—about things—taking them in the large. I'm too busy trying to dope out what the other fellows are thinking."

"Well, then, what do you suppose they're thinking now?"

"They're thinking they've got to stop you from trying this case against Sotjie—if they can. If you go ahead you'll mark them with the evidence you've got so that they'll never be able to touch you for fear of making the town too hot to hold them. And if you go ahead they'll maybe lose the election. If they're going to stop you they've got to stop you now. I don't think they want to kill you, but they want you in the hospital till after elections. That's dead sure. You've got to be careful."