"So that's the kind uh game yuh asked me to set in on!" Casey broke another long silence.

He had felt in his bones that young Kenner was watching him secretly, waiting for him to take his stand for or against the proposition.
"I'd like to know who passed the word around amongst outlaws that Casey Ryan is the only original easy mark left runnin' wild, an' that he can be caught an' made a goat of any time it's handy! Look at the crowd of folks bunched on that crossing this afternoon! Why didn't yuh pick some one else for the goat?
Outa all them hundreds uh people, why'n hell did yuh have to go an' pick on Casey Ryan?
Ain't he had trouble enough tryin' to keep outa trouble?
"Naw! Casey Ryan's went an' blowed hisself to show tickets, an' he's headed home, peaceful an' on time, so's he can shave an' put on a clean collar an' slick up to please his wife an' take 'er to the show! Nothin' agin the law in that! Not a damn' thing yuh can haul 'im to jail fer! So YOU had to come along, loaded to the guards with hootch--stall your Ford on the car track right under m' nose, an' tell Casey Ryan to git in! Couldn't leave 'im to go home peaceful to 'is wife--naw! You had t' haul 'im away out here an' git 'im in wrong with a cop agin! That's a fine game you're playin'! That's a DARNED fine game!" "Sure, it is! It's better than the game you've been playing," young Kenner stated calmly.

"Take your own story, for instance.

You've been dubbin' along, tryin' t' play the way the law tells you to.

An' the saps has been flockin' to yuh like a bunch uh hornets--every bird tryin' t' sink his stinger in first.