drive you home.”
“Nix. That lad makes my skin crawl,” Wade said.
Dr. Verringer stood up gently and reached over and patted the shoulder of the man on the bed. “To me Earl is quite harmless, Mr. Wade. I have ways of controlling him.”
“Name one,” a new voice said, and Earl came through the door in his Roy Rogers outfit. Dr. Verringer turned smiling.
“Keep that psycho away from me,” Wade yelled, showing fear for the first time.
Earl put his hands on his ornamented belt. His face was deadpan. A light whistling noise came from between his teeth. He moved slowly into the room.
“You shouldn’t have said that,” Dr. Verringer said quickly, and turned towards Earl. “All right, Earl. I’ll handle Mr. Wade myself. I’ll help him get dressed while you bring the car up here as close to the cabin as possible. Mr. Wade is quite weak.”
“And he’s going to be a lot weaker,” Earl said in a whistling kind of voice. “Out of my way, fatso.”
“Now, Earl—” he reached out and grabbed the handsome young man’s arm—”you don’t want to go back to Camarillo, do you? One word from me and—”
That was as far as he got. Earl jerked his arm loose and his right hand came up with a flash of metal. The armored fist crashed against Dr. Verringer’s jaw. He went down as if shot through the heart. The fall shook the cabin. I started running.
I reached the door and yanked it open. Earl spun around, leaning forward a little, staring at me without recognition. There was a bubbling sound behind his lips. He started for me fast.
I jerked the gun out and showed it to him. It meant nothing. Either his own guns were not loaded or he had forgotten all about them. The brass knuckles were all he needed. He kept coming.
I fired through the open window across the bed. The crash of the gun in the small room seemed much louder than it should have been. Earl stopped dead. His head slewed around and he looked at the hole in the window screen. He looked back at me. Slowly his face came alive and he grinned.
“Wha’ happen?” he asked brightly.
“Get rid of the knucks,” I said, watching his eyes.
He looked surprisingly down at his hand. He slipped the mauler off and threw it casually in the corner.
“Now the gun belt,” I said. “Don’t touch the guns, just the buckle.”
“They’re not loaded,” he said smiling. “Hell, they’re not even guns, just stage money.”
“The belt. Hurry it.”
He looked at the short-barreled .32. “That a real one? Oh sure it is. The screen. Yeah, the screen.”
The man on the bed wasn’t on the bed any more. He was behind Earl. He reached swiftly and pulled one of the bright guns loose. Earl didn’t like this. His face showed it.
“Lay off him,” I said angrily. “Put that back where you got it.”
“He’s right,” Wade said. “They’re cap guns.” He backed away and put the shiny pistol on the table. “Christ, I’m as weak as a broken arm.”
“Take the belt off,” I said for the third time. When you start something with a type like Earl you have to finish it. Keep it simple and don’t change your mind.
He did it at last, quite amiably. Then, holding the belt, he walked over to the table and got his other gun and put it in the holster and put the belt right back on again. I let him do it. It wasn’t until then that he saw Dr. Verringer crumpled on the floor against the wall. He made a sound of concern, went quickly across the room into the bathroom, and came back with a glass jug of water. He dumped the water on Dr. Verringer’s head. Dr. Verringer sputtered and rolled over. Then he groaned. Then he clapped a hand to his jaw. Then he started to get up. Earl helped him.
“Sorry, Doc. I must have just let fly without seeing who it was.”
“It’s all right, nothing broken,” Verringer said, waving him away. “Get the car up here, Earl. And don’t forget the key for the padlock down below.”
“Car up here, sure. Right away. Key for the padlock. I got it. Right away, Doc.”
He went out of the room whistling.
Wade was sitting on the side of the bed, looking shaky. “You the dick he was talking about?” he asked me. “How did you find me?”
“Just asking around from people who know about these things,” I said. “If you want to get home, you might get clothes on.”
Dr. Verringer was leaning against the wall, massaging his jaw. “I’ll help him,” he said thickly. “All I do is help people and all they do is kick me in the teeth.”
“I know just how you feel,” I said.
I went out and left them to work at it.
20
The car was close by when they came out, but Earl was gone. He had stopped the car, cut the lights, and walked back towards the big cabin without saying anything to me. He was still whistling, groping for some half- remembered tune.
Wade climbed carefully into the back seat and I got in beside him. Dr. Verringer drove. If his jaw hurt badly and
