Puroll tells me that representatives of "the Mexican cartel" have approached him four or five times at this restaurant over the years wanting to do business.
"They didn't want me to sell or buy the stuff, just that they'd make it worth my while to look the other way out in the desert if I bumped into them," he says.
Puroll says he didn't arrest any of these men, call for backup, or write reports about the encounters.
Puroll also told Rubin about a potential threat against the reporter's life made by a "rancher of Mexican decent," who offered to off Rubin for some of things written in his first article on Puroll, Pinalcchio.
After four hours of dialogue, I shut down my tape-recorder at the truck stop.
Puroll tells me: "Now that that's off, let me tell you something. You're lucky to be alive right now."
The deputy explains that a friend of his, a "rancher of Mexican descent," recently offered to murder me because of what I wrote in "Pinalcchio."
I ask the deputy what he'd said to his pal.
"I said that it wouldn't be a good idea, not to worry about it," he says evenly.
I ask him why he's telling me this. He sees me taking notes, but continues.
"Thought you'd like to know some people were upset with you, that's all," the deputy replies, smiling slightly.
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