opportunity to make money in any variety of ways. He said he was from Phoenix, Arizona, and had investments in land and cattle.
Mr. Greene had looked up at him with a slight twinkle in his eye. He said, "You seem to have come over quite a lot of ground to end up in a place like Little Rock looking for business opportunities."
Longarm answered comfortably, "Oh, I'm a traveling man. Once I got started, it seemed easy enough to stay on the train and visit friends here and there. I figure I might eventually end up going on up into Tennessee, perhaps."
When they had finished eating and were taking their time over coffee, Longarm casually said, "I understand they do a little business in whiskey around here, Mr. Greene. Would you know anything about that?"
Mr. Greene looked away for a second and then came back to Longarm. He said, "Oh, I suppose everyone that has ever been in this part of the country knows something about whiskey. I take it that you're talking about the kind of whiskey they make back in the hills that some people call white lightning or moonshine?"
Longarm nodded. "That would be the kind of whiskey that I'm inquiring about."
Mr. Greene said, "Well, there's no secret that it's a pretty brisk commodity around here. No law against it, as far as I know. Not so long as a man buys some to drink for himself."
"Well, that kind of whiskey ain't exactly my choice for drinking purposes," Longarm said. "I was thinking more along the lines of pretty large quantities of the stuff, quantities a man might be able to sell for a profit."
Mr. Greene's eyes twinkled slightly again. He said, "Mr. Long, that's illegal. I'm a banker. I wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing."
Longarm smiled again. "As I understood you, Mr. Greene, you said that you were an advisor to a bank. That doesn't necessarily make you a banker."
Mr. Greene laughed. He had a pleasant laugh that seemed to poke fun at both himself and the situation. He said, "Well, you may be right, Mr. Long. I'm really not a banker. I suppose in some ways, we are a lot alike. I've spent most of my life searching out opportunities in land and timber, and I guess I've done the odd livestock trade here and there."
"But you don't know anything about the whiskey trade?"
"I didn't say that, Mr. Long," said Mr. Greene. "I just said that the kind of whiskey trade you're talking about was illegal."
"Well, it's been my experience that a thing that don't hurt nobody and don't scare the horses and the law don't find out about ain't exactly illegal."
Mr. Greene said, "I believe you have a good point there, Mr. Long."
"Call me Custis."
"Most folks call me Bob."
"All right. Let's just say you were me and you were in town kind of interested in getting into the whiskey business with an eye for reselling it for a profit. You didn't know anybody, but you had heard about the transactions--kind of like a rumor. If you were me and in that situation with no contacts, how would you start in on this business?"
Mr. Greene laughed. "Well, one of the first things I wouldn't do is stick a gun into the face of the man who is right in the midst of it."
"That fellow Colton?"
"That fellow, Morton Colton. Yes, you've picked the wrong man, Custis, if you wanted a shortcut into the business."
"He's got a lot to do with it then?" said Longarm.
Greene shook his head. "Not directly, no. He sort of runs a protection outfit that makes sure the flow of whiskey and money don't get interrupted."
"Is that a fact?"
Mr. Greene nodded again. "Like I told you yesterday, Custis, he's a bad man to fool with on either side of the law. That's what makes him valuable to the whiskey trade around here. He's some kind of friend to the sheriff and it's the sheriff that allows the business to go around here. I'm not telling you anything you can't find out on the street. It's all pretty well known. It's a business that's been going on quite a few years, even back when Arkansas was just a territory, so it's not