This was the chance I had been waiting for. I knew it meant trouble, but money that big had
to mean trouble. Well, the opportunity was there: right in my lap. I wasn’t going to pass it up.
“Count me in,” I said.
III
We had been walking maybe for ten minutes when we saw a light shining in the darkness.
Another twenty yards brought us to a small wooden cabin, facing the sea.
“Are you all set, Johnny?” she asked, stopping. “You know what to do. You’re suffering
from concussion. Leave all the talking to me.”
“I know what to do.”
I flopped down on the sand and stretched out while she went on towards the cabin. While I
waited I tried to keep my mind blank, but it couldn’t be done. I kept thinking of the trouble
that was piling up for me, but I wasn’t going to side-step it. Come hail, come sunshine, I was
going to have that money.
I heard voices. I heard her say, “He just passed out. I think its concussion.” The anxious,
frightened note in her voice even fooled me.
A man said, “I’ll get him in, miss. Just you take it easy.”
Hands turned me over on my back. I let out a groan to tell him how bad I was, and looked
through my eyelashes as he bent over me. I couldn’t see much of him in the half darkness. He
seemed short and powerfully built, and that was about all I could see.
He was powerful all right, for he got me to my feet as if I weighed a few pounds. I made an
effort to keep upright, then slumped heavily on him.
“Take it easy,” he said. “It ain’t far. Lean on me as hard as you like.”
95
I felt Della take my arm, and supported between the two of them I made a slow, staggering
journey across the sand to the cabin.
They got me on to a bed. I lay still, my eyes closed. I heard him say, “He sure is knocked
about. What do you want me to do, miss? Get a doctor?”
“How far is it to the nearest telephone?” she asked.
“About half a mile down the road.”
He had moved away from me now, and I took a peep at him. He was elderly, with a tanned,
lined face and stubbly white hair. I looked from him to her. She had dropped into a chair. Her
face was tight and hard, and as white as a bone. She must have been tough to have withstood
the shock of the crash and her husband’s death and still be able to plan and act as she had
done. But now she looked ready to flop, and the old guy seemed to think so too. He went
hastily to a cupboard and brought out a bottle of whisky. He poured her a stiff drink, and she
put it down as if it were water.
“Our car was stolen,” she said huskily. “We were held up. My friend was hit on the head.
It’s important we should get to Lincoln Beach at once. I wonder if you would telephone to
our friends and ask them to come and pick us up?”
“Why, sure. I’ll do it right away. The name’s Jud Harkness. I’ll be glad to do anything I can
for you.”
“I can’t say how grateful I am, Mr. Harkness,” she said, and smiled at him. “We were on
our way to Lincoln Beach when this hold-up happened. If you could phone …”
“Give me the number, miss, and I’ll do it. Want me to call the cops?”
“I want to get him home first. I’ll report the hold-up from Lincoln Beach. The number is
Lincoln Beach 4444. Can you remember that?”
“Sure, that’s an easy one,”
“Ask for Nick Reisner. Tell him Ricca has met with an accident and for him to come out
here as soon as he can. Will you do that?”
