The jailer tilted his chair, clamped both hands behind his head, and
looked steadily at the new arrival. Jeff stood still, sensing something
here that had not been evident at first glance. Pop had a kindly face
and a weary smile, but were they a mask? After a moment, he spoke.
"What are you doing here, boy?"
"Getting in jail."
"You're a peddler?"
"I represent Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd. Now I have here--"
"Whoa! Whoa there! I see a lot of peddlers. My knife is all right, my
watch is all right, I don't need tooth picks, tooth brushes, or anything
else, and I haven't any family. How long have you been peddling?"
"Quite a spell."
"You ever been in trouble before?"