They won't come near me--not they." His thin livid lips snapped together firmly.

Ossipon began to argue.
"But they could send someone--rig a plant on you.

Don't you see?
Get the stuff from you in that way, and then arrest you with the proof in their hands." "Proof of what?
Dealing in explosives without a licence perhaps." This was meant for a contemptuous jeer, though the expression of the thin, sickly face remained unchanged, and the utterance was negligent.

"I don't think there's one of them anxious to make that arrest.

I don't think they could get one of them to apply for a warrant.