“The police are not chumps, kid; they are just lazy, that’s all. If they worked as thoroughly at their business as I do at mine, I don’t know what would happen. They are human, and take the easy way. Somebody whispers to a dick. He whispers to me, and we go down to the jail, where he locks me up on suspicion. The next morning he and his partner come to my cell, knock me down, walk up and down on my wishbone for a few minutes, and ask me if I am ready to snitch on myself and all my friends. If I decline to help them, they let me out. That’s the lazy coppers’ notion of doing police duty.”

Our dinner finished, he said: “And now, after all this talk, what do you think we should do with the stones we have?”

“Why not spend a hundred dollars for fare to Pocatello and back?” I asked. “Mary’s safe.”