kidney holster instead of old faithful here, then instead of sitting here talking to you I’d be lying dead in the clover with an arrow sticking out of my ribs.”
“That is pretty amazing,” said Skip. “But you know what’s really,
“What’s that?” said Pender.
Skip waved his hand around in a grand gesture loosely encompassing himself, Pender, the slumbering Charles Mesker, the breathtaking view, the earth below and the sky above. “Everything,” he said. “Just…everything.”
Special Agent E. L. Pender raised his pewter flask to the shimmering stars. “I’ll drink to that,” he said.
And he did.
Вы читаете The Boys from Santa Cruz
