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of bail bondsmen in the country—the convention of the Professional Bail Agents of the United States, or PBUS—was slotted between Dunkin’ Donuts and Elk Camp 2013 at the Mirage Resort and Casino, a tall, shiny structure shaped like an open book and set against replicas of the Colosseum and Eiffel Tower on Las Vegas’ Strip.The sidewalk out front was littered with cards bearing phone numbers and pictures of naked women.Shortly afterward you appear before a judge who decides whether to let you out before your trial (only people charged with the most heinous crimes are denied bail altogether) and, if so, what collateral it will take to make sure you don’t bolt.For drug possession, let’s say the judge sets bail at ,000.“You make the most money off domestic violence, cuz the bail’s high. I turned around to see Dog the Bounty Hunter entering the room, cameras swirling around him. They all knew his A&E reality show, in which he kicked in doors and pepper-sprayed fugitives for bail bondsmen around the country.His blond mullet flowed down the shoulders of his flame-embroidered leather jacket. Dog, like many bounty hunters, was a freelance contractor, hired by bondsmen to track down clients who skipped court.

“Sometimes you get real lucky.” He told me about the first bond he ever wrote in the cheerful, blow-by-blow manner of a poker player recounting a winning hand.

In one workshop, the president of the association gave an impassioned speech about the IRS—”Don’t even think about talking to those folks.

They are not your friend.” In another, a private investigator schooled us in the art of catching skips.

If you have that kind of money, you can give it to the court and get it back when you show up for trial. If you don’t have that much cash, you have two choices: sit in jail and wait for your trial, or hire a bail bondsman.

To the bondsman you pay a nonrefundable fee—usually 10 percent of the bail—and he promises the court that you will show up for trial. The man in the gray suit continued: “I write real A stuff,” he said. “And a lot of times those cases don’t even get filed—” His eyes drifted toward the middle distance behind me.

I’d even grown a mustache for the event, thinking it would help me blend in a little—bondsmen have mustaches, don’t they?