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The level gaze of the police officer studied him speculatively. "Now why this change of heart?" "You get me wrong. I'm with you to a finish in puttin' West and Whaley out of business. They're a hell-raisin' outfit, an' this country'll be well rid of 'em. Only thing is I wanta play my cards above the table. I couldn't spy on these men. Leastways, it didn't look quite square to me.
"Well," he said, "I've got to take a chance on you. An', somehow, it seems to me that I ain't takin' much of a chance, either. For a man that's supposed to be the hell-raisin' outlaw that folks say you are, you've got the straightest eyes I ever seen. I've seen killers an' outlaws, an' gun-fighters, an' I never seen one that could look at a man like you've looked at me.
"The chance that me an' Red Linton will be able to get things into shape to look out for you." He was gravely serious. "It must seem a mighty slim chance to you me comin' here with a reputation that ain't any too good, an' Linton, with his red head an' his freckles. Seems like a woman would go all wrong, pinnin' her faith to red hair an' freckles an' a hell-raisin' outlaw.
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