The Trail Of The White Mule

The Trail Of The White Mule
by B. M. Bower

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Book Description
The traffic officer was Irish too and bigger than Casey and madder. For all that Casey offered to lick the livin' tar outa him before accepting a pale expensive ticket which he crumbled and put into his pocket without looking at it. (Excerpt)

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The night was growing cold, and Casey had no coat. At least he could go down and tell Barney what he had discovered and had failed to discover, and get something to eat. Barney would probably be worrying about him, though there was a chance that a bullet had found Barney before dark. Casey was uneasy, and once he was down the fissure again, he hurried as much as possible.

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