Lemons Never Lie

'Up on the seat of the truck. Go on up, start the engine, listen to it.'

'I believe I will,' Hughes said, and climbed up into the cab. While Grofield and Purgy watched and waited, Hughes started the engine, switched it off, started it, switched it off, started it, raced it, switched it off, started it, lurched the truck forward about three feet, switched it off, started it, lurched it backward about three feet, switched it off, started it, and drove it away.

Grofield watched it leave. About half the dogs stayed with him and Purgy, and the rest went trotting off with the truck.

Hughes was a first-rate driver. There wasn't that much room to maneuver in among the cars and trucks and buses and odd vehicles stored on this flat area, but Hughes threaded the maze with no trouble at all. He backed in a figure eight, he drove forward in various directions at various speeds and in various gears, and finally he drove it back over to Purgy and Grofield again, jolted to a stop, and switched off the motor.

Purgy had his hands on his hips, ready to be belligerently defensive about the truck. He watched Hughes climb down from the cab and said, 'Well?'

'Brakes grab to the right a bit,' Hughes said. 'Trailer doesn't track very well.'

'It's empty, what do you want from it? You know a truck like that isn't meant to drive empty.'

'It's worth five hundred, I suppose,' Hughes said carelessly.

'Five hundred! Are you out of your mind? Don't you want me to even get my cost back?'

'I've sold you things,' Hughes said. 'I know what your cost is. You maybe paid a hundred and a half for this-'

'Hughes, you're a goddam fool. Who's gonna sell a truck like that for a hundred and fifty dollars?'

'The people that brought it to you,' Hughes said. 'They made their money out of what was in it. All they wanted is a safe place to unload it, and not leave it off a road someplace for the cops to pick up and maybe find somebody's fingerprints or coat button or something. I told you, I've sold you stuff. So you paid a hundred and a half. If you take it apart and sell the pieces you can sell and junk the rest, you'll maybe make three hundred out of it.'

'There's another dumb idea,' Purgy said, trying to be scornful but only being irritable. 'There's better than three hundred just under the hood alone.'

'But we're saving you the trouble,' Hughes said. 'You don't have to do any work on it at all, you don't have to store the parts, you don't do anything but spend five minutes out here having a nice talk with me, and you make better than two hundred percent profit. That isn't bad.'

'I told you my price,' Purgy said. Now he sounded as though he'd been insulted.

'Oh, you didn't mean a number like that,' Hughes said. 'That was just to argue from. But it's getting late in the day, we've got a long drive ahead of us, so I figured I'd go straight to the sensible price. Five hundred.'

'Now look,' Purgy said, 'you're an old customer and I like you, and I know you like this here truck. So I'll give you a break. I paid twelve hundred for that truck, and I'll give it to you for fifteen. Now, that's fair, isn't it?'

'Oh, come on, Purgy. You didn't pay any twelve hundred and we both know it. Now, why say a thing like that?'

'Well, I wouldn't if it wasn't so.'

'Then it's the first time I ever saw you get took, and I can't take the truck. Come on, Grofield.'

Hughes started toward the Javelin, Grofield beside him.

Purgy shouted, 'Hughes, goddam it, are you tryin' to make me mad?'

Grofield suddenly became doubly aware of all those dogs, milling around between there and the Javelin. Did they want to make Purgy mad? Did they want to dicker with a man who had all those dogs around? What if he told the dogs not to let you go until you met his price? Grofield put his hands in his pockets, not wanting his fingers to stray accidentally into any passing dog's mouth.

Purgy shouted, 'Hughes, you just stop goddam it where you stand!'

Hughes stopped, and turned around, and looked at Purgy. 'You've always been a tough bargainer, Purgy,' he said, 'but you've never told me an out-and-out lie before. Twelve hundred dollars. Why, man, my three- year-old daughter wouldn't believe that.'

Grofield looked at him. Three-year-old daughter?

Purgy suddenly grinned. 'Aw, Hughes, you're such a dumb bastard. I've lied to you plenty.'

'Not such obvious lies, then,' Hughes said. 'Listen, so we don't get mad at each other, I'll go eight hundred.'

'You'll go eleven hundred and no more arguing,' Purgy said. 'And don't talk to me about a thousand, because eleven hundred is my bottom number.'

Hughes said, 'For eleven hundred, you can paint the goddam owner's name off the doors.'

'Eleven hundred like she stands.'

'I will walk away from here, Purgy,' Hughes said. Grofield looked sideways at him, and Hughes' profile was grim and angry. There was no mistaking it;