"Why?"

"Guess you'd say it was because he won't fit into the new policy of
the firm. Guess you'd say he'd always be gettin' us into trouble with
his overbearin' and crooked ways."

"That's true. He would."

"Maybe it would be a good idee to watch him mighty close. They say
he's a bad hombre. Might be unlucky for any one he got the drop on."

Tom knew he was being warned. "I'll look out for him," he promised.

The older man changed the subject smilingly. "Here's where C.N. Morse
& Company turns over a leaf, son. No more business gambles. Legitimate
trade only. That the idee you're figurin' on makin' me live up to?"

"Suits me if it does you," Tom answered cheerfully, "But where do
I come in? What's my job in the firm? You'll notice I haven't said
'Thanks' yet."

"You?" C.N. gave him a sly, dry smile. "Oh, all you have to do is to
handle our business north of the line--buy, sell, trade, build up
friendly relations with the Indians and trappers, keep friendly with
the police, and a few little things like that."

Tom grinned.

"Won't have a thing to do, will I?"