“Could use a lookout,” Wolfson said. “Last one got hoorahed out of town.”

“What are you paying?” I said.

He told me.

“Plus a room upstairs,” Wolfson said.

“Meals?”

“If you eat them here,” Wolfson said.

“Anyplace else in town to eat?” I said.

Wolfson shrugged.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

“It’s kind of a tradition,” Wolfson said. “Some of the boys like to test the new lookout.”

I nodded.

“Fact is I’ve had trouble keeping a lookout.”

I nodded again, and drank a little more. The whiskey was pretty good.

“I got a big capital investment here,” Wolfson said. “I don’t want it wrecked.”

“Don’t blame you,” I said.

“Think you can stick?” Wolfson said.

“Sure,” I said.

“Some tough people here,” Wolfson said.

“Tough people everywhere,” I said.

“Any chance you could get Virgil Cole to come up here, too?” Wolfson said.

“No,” I said.

“You fellas on the outs?” Wolfson said.

“No,” I said.

“There’s a shotgun behind the bar,” Wolfson said.

“Got my own,” I said.

“When you want to start?”

“Tonight,” I said. “Gimme time to stow my gear, clean up, take a nap.”

“It can get rough,” Wolfson said.

“Any backup?” I said. “Bartenders?”

Wolfson shook his head.

“They serve drinks,” Wolfson said. “Ain’t got no interest in getting killed.”

“You?” I said.

“I’m a businessman,” Wolfson said.

“You’re heeled,” I said.

Wolfson opened his coat and showed me a Colt in a shoulder holster.

“Self-defense,” he said. “Only.”

“So I’m on my own,” I said.

Wolfson nodded.

“Still interested?” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Sure. Just getting the way it lays out.”

“And you ain’t scared,” Wolfson said.