“Some,” the prisoner answered.

“Don’t you think it bad for them?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perhaps you’ve been here longer than I. Isn’t this whiskey-smuggling bad business all round?”

“Not for the smuggler.  Speakin’ as an outsider, I reckon he does it because he makes money,” Morse answered impersonally.

“For the country, I mean.  For the trapper, for the breeds, for the Indians.”

“No doubt about that.”

“You’re a nephew of C.N.  Morse, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wish you’d take him a message from me.  Tell him that it’s bad business for a big trading firm like his to be smuggling whiskey.”  The officer raised a hand to stop the young man’s protest.  “Yes, I know you’re going to tell me that we haven’t proved he’s been smuggling.  We’ll pass that point.  Carry him my message.  Just say it’s bad business.  You can tell him if you want to that we’re here to put an end to it and we’re going to do it.  But stress the fact that it isn’t good business.  Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, sir.”  A glint of a smile showed in the inspector’s eyes.  “I’ll give you a Scotch verdict, young man.  Not guilty, but don’t do it again.  You’re discharged.”

“Barney, too?”

“Hmp!  He’s a horse of another color.  Think we’ll send him over the plains.”

“Why make two bites of a cherry, sir?  He can’t be guilty if I’m not,” the released prisoner said.

“Did I say you weren’t?” Inspector MacLean countered.

“Not worth the powder, is he, sir?” Tom insinuated nonchalantly.  “Rather a fathead, Barney is.  If he’s guilty, it’s not as a principal.  You’d much better send me up.”

The officer laughed behind the hand that stroked the mustache.  “Do you want to be judge and jury as well as prisoner, my lad?”

“Thought perhaps my uncle would understand the spirit of your message better if Barney went along with me, Inspector.”  The brown eyes were open and guileless.

MacLean studied the Montanan deliberately.  He began to recognize unusual qualities in this youth.

“Can’t say I care for your friend Barney.  He’s a bad egg, or I miss my guess.”

“Not much taken with him myself.  Thought if I’d get him to travel south with me it might save you some trouble.”

“It might,” the Inspector agreed.  “It’s his first offense so far as I know.”  Under bristling eyebrows he shot a swift look at this self-assured youngster.  He had noticed that men matured at an early age on the frontier.  The school of emergency developed them fast.  But Morse struck him as more competent even than the other boyish plainsmen he had met.  “Will you be responsible for him?”

The Montanan came to scratch reluctantly.  He had no desire to be bear leader for such a doubtful specimen as Barney.

“Yes,” he said, after a pause.

“Keep him in the States, will you?”