Even the old woman who rocked, Casey pictured--from his particular angle.

Mack Nolan sat up and listened, his eyes steady and his mouth, that had curved to laughter many times during the recital, once more firm and somewhat pitiless when Casey finished.
"This Smiling Lou; you'd know him again, of course ?" "Know him! Say, I'd know him after he'd fried a week in hell!" Casey's tone left no doubt of his meaning.
"And I suppose you could tell this man Kenner a mile off and around a corner.

Now, I'll tell you what I want you to do, Casey.

This may jar you a little--until I explain.

I want you--" Mack Nolan paused, his lips twitching in a faint smile--"to do a little bootlegging yourself." "Yuh--WHAT ?" In the firelight Casey's eyes were seen to bulge.
"I want you to bootleg this whisky you've got in the car." Nolan's eyes twinkled.