office like a crab.
“God!” he said when he stood up. “That was close.”
Winnie asked: “Caryle?”
“He's dead.”
She must have known it, but it was a shock anyway. She began to cry. “We'll all be killed,” she sobbed. “All of us.”
“Now, there,” Jonesy said, patting her back.
Ginger sat on Papas's table and crossed her legs. She had long, slender legs. I wished we were alone. Blood always excites me. “It looks like a stand-off,” Ginger said.
“So far,” I said.
“What are they trying to do?” Davison asked. “I never heard of anything like this.”
I took my eyes off Ginger's legs. “Gangsters,” I said.
“But they've gone out of style,” Davison said. “They don't have gangsters any more.”
“Suppose you go out and tell them that,” I said.
Winnie said: “Why don't we call the police?”
That was a good idea. I wondered why I hadn't thought of it. I lifted the phone on Papas's desk. It was dead. I tossed the phone on the floor. The crash made everybody jump. I heard a noise in the trophy room. I looked out the door and saw Gus Papas crawling across the floor. He caught hold of the first wounded man, the one by the fireplace, and dragged him along. He brought the man into the office.
“Oh, boy! this is terrible,” Papas said cheerfully.
He started to pick the telephone off the floor. “No use,” Ginger said. I looked at the wounded man. He wasn't going to die. The bleeding from his shoulder had stopped”.
“We hold them off,” Papas said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Got three men in back,” Papas said. “And me and the bartender here. They don't get in.”
He looked pretty happy. He had proved he was a hell of a fighter. He had driven off Pug Banta.
Winnie was sobbing again and the men were trying to comfort her. I crawled across the trophy room to the bartender by the window. He was peeking out through one of the curtains.
“What are they doing?”
“Get your own window,” he snarled.
I crawled to another window. By moving the curtain a little I could sec out. There was a fire going in back of the cars. I could see the moving shadows of men by the gasoline pump. They were careful to keep out of range of the cabin. After a while two men with torches left the fire. The flames of the torches rose high. They had been soaked in gasoline. The men moved towards us, keeping behind the cars. I saw the bartender raise his rifle. We waited while the men crawled along, their torches lighting up trees and bushes and the parked cars.
Suddenly two machine-guns began to rake the house. I could feel the curtain twitch from the lead. The men with the torches ran for the cabin. I bent my wrist around the window, keeping my body back, and fired where I thought they ought to be. Papas and the bartender were firing, too. I saw a torch sail through the air and land ten feet short of the front door. The shooting stopped. I peeked through the curtain. The other torch was lying near the cars. Somebody must have hit the guy who had it. Papas leaned out his window and took a shot at something. The machine-gun opened up again.
I lay on the floor, listening to the flying lead. I thought we were lucky. The torches could just as well have hit the cabin. We'd look fine trying to put out a fire while they sprayed us with the tommy-guns. But that was over. We'd got two of Pug's men. He wouldn't want to waste many more. Now he'd probably go away.
I crawled back to the office. Winnie had fainted. She was lying on the table and Ginger was washing her face with a damp cloth. The two men were watching Ginger. The wounded waiter was on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
“What happened?” Davison asked.
I told him. Both the men were scared. “I fought in the war,” Jonesy said; “But it wasn't like this.”
Winnie began to moan. I went through Papas's desk and found a pint of some Greek liquor. When Winnie came to, I made her drink some, and then I had some myself. It was terrible; it tasted like the stuff that oozes out of pine trees. Resin, I guess.
“I'll take one,” Ginger said.
I gave her a drink. She made a face. Winnie sat up and Jonesy put an arm around her. “Have they gone?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jonesy said. “It's all right now, dear.” The liquor had authority. I felt it in my stomach. I took another drink. Davison and Jonesy watched me. They didn't want any liquor.
“We'll have to get the police,” Davison said. “You go,” I said. “They've gone, haven't they?”
“You find out,” I said. “I'm staying here.”
“Me, too,” Ginger said.
I gave her a drink, and then had another. I was getting a buzz out of the liquor. I sat on the table beside Ginger. Gus Papas crawled to the door. “Hey,” he said to me.
