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thin,” Flintlock said. “Not much there for his lawyer.”
    â€œBut then, the evidence of a fifty-cent silver cross isn’t enough to hang a feller either.”
    â€œMaybe you’re right.”
    â€œThe judge, a man named Drummond, says McPhee has had death threats. Marshal Lithgow finds two or three on the jailhouse doorstep every morning.”
    â€œIt’s the ones who don’t make threats that do the deed,” Flintlock said. “At least in my experience.”
    â€œPolly Mallory was a fine schoolteacher and she was well liked in this town,” Wraith said. “As, indeed, was Jamie McPhee.”
    Flintlock smiled. “Yeah, I’ve seen lynch mobs string up a man for killing somebody they liked, even if the dear departed was a low-life skunk. One time I saw the Texas draw fighter Wild Horse Harry Dean strung up for shooting a wife-beater and chicken thief by the name of Hoag Blacker. The prosecutor convinced the jury that they liked Blacker just fine and that Harry had murdered a solid citizen. Well, Harry got the drop all right, and a month later the same jury hung Blacker for being a damned nuisance.”
    â€œAnd that’s why McPhee needs you as a bodyguard,” Wraith said. Then, more convincingly, “As you said yourself, you need the money, Sam.”
    â€œYou’re right about that. I’m close to riding the grub line.”
    Flintlock turned from the window and stared at Wraith, mild accusation in his eyes. “Why the hell did you become a Pinkerton, Cliff?”
    The older man smiled. “It’s a story.”
    â€œI’ll listen.”
    â€œDo you recollect Dog Wilson that time?”
    â€œYeah. As I recollect he set a pack of coonhounds on you. or so I heard. Dog was mean and lowdown, everybody knew that.”
    â€œYeah, well those hounds tore me up considerable until I got a bullet into Dog’s brisket, then his curs lost interest. But the damage was done. Later a doc stitched me back together again.”
    â€œAn angry dog can put a hurting on a man.”
    â€œNo doubt about that. I remember thinking, ‘I killed a man, got set upon by a ravenous pack of hounds and all for a fifty-dollar reward.’”
    â€œSo you turned your back on the bounty-hunting business and became a detective.”
    â€œMore or less, but not immediately. For a while I had a job as a restaurant dishwasher down Austin way. The restaurant was called the Copper Kitchen and at first it was all right.”
    â€œBut you didn’t like that job either?”
    â€œI broke about two hundred o’ cup and bowl, got fired and then joined the Pinks.”
    Flintlock didn’t respond and Wraith said, “The pay is good and I enjoy the job.”
    â€œWhy are you here?” Flintlock said finally. “You investigating the murder?”
    â€œNo. Jamie McPhee’s lawyer asked for a Pinkerton to keep his client alive. A few of the death threats were serious enough to alarm him.”
    â€œThen why do you need me?” Flintlock said.
    â€œI need your gun, Sam, and your cussedness.”
    â€œBoth are for sale.”
    â€œAnd you step lightly from one side of the law to the other, which gives a man a broader outlook on things. Some say you’re a bounty hunter some of the time and an outlaw most of the time. I don’t know if that’s true or not.”
    â€œWhat’s this lawyer’s name?” Flintlock said, ignoring that last.
    â€œCrusty old feller by the name of Frank Constable, rode with General Wade Hampton an’ them and won a medal at Trevilian Station. Walks with a cane thanks to a Yankee musket ball.”
    â€œHe thinks McPhee is innocent?”
    â€œI don’t know. But he’s a stickler for the law and he says a charge of murder can’t be proved against his client.” Wraith shrugged. “Which it can’t, of course.”
    â€œTell Constable my fee is two