The Golden Gizmo

'Wait!' It was the Mexican attendant. 'I will tell you, Seсores!' His teeth gleamed at Toddy in a warm, placating smile, a grin of apology. 'I am sorry, Seсor, but it is best to tell them. These gentlemen mean business.'

Donald nodded venomously. 'You ain't just woofin', hombre. Spill it!'

'But you must know, gentlemen. What else would it be but-but-'

'But what?'

'White stuff,' said Toddy, taking the Mexican off the limb. 'As my friend says, what else could it be?'

Donald sneered. Shake gave Toddy a look of mock sanctimoniousness. 'I might of knowed it,' he said. 'A man that'll murder his own sweet little wife an' play mean tricks on people that trust him won't stop at nothin'. Dope, tsk, tsk. You smugglin' it across the border?'

'Not at all,' said Toddy. 'I use it to powder my nose.' He fell back from the blow of the blackjack, and Shake advanced on him. 'Okay,' he wheezed. 'Be smart. Be good an' smart. It's gonna cost you enough. Where you got the stuff hid?'

'I'-Toddy's eyes flicked around the room, settled momentarily on one of the elevated water chambers, and moved back to Shake- 'I've got it cached out in the country a few miles.'

'The hell you have-' Donald began. But Shake interrupted him.

'You give yourself away, Toddy. You're losin' your grip. Get up there an' get it.'

'Up where?'

'You better move!'

'Okay,' sighed Toddy. 'You win.'

With Shake at his heels, he stepped into the first of the toilet enclosures and gripped the top of its two partitions. He gave a jump, swung himself upward, and got a knee over one of the partitions. Grasping the pipe which ran from the flush chamber to the toilet, he pulled himself up until he stood straddling the enclosure.

Donald issued a curt command, and the Mexican hastened to lie down in the adjacent booth. Then the little shiv artist crowded in next to Shake, holding his knife by the blade.

'Don't try nothing',' he warned. 'I can't reach you but the knife can.'

'Yeah,' said Toddy. 'I know.'

He gripped the ends of the heavy porcelain lid of the water chamber. Grunting, he moved it free and edged backward.

'Have to help me with this,' he panted. 'It's-'

'Now, wait a-' wheezed Shake. And Donald's knife flashed with the swift action of his hand. But he was too late. They couldn't stop what Toddy had started. They couldn't get out of the way.

'-heavy!' said Toddy. And he hurled the heavy lid downward with all his might.

It caught Shake full in his fat upturned face, one end swinging sickeningly against the bridge of Donald's nose. They sprawled backwards out of the enclosure, and Toddy scrambled down hastily from his perch.

He need not have hurried. The Mexican attendant, apparently, had exactly anticipated his actions. Now he was on his feet, administering one of the most thorough, expert yet dispassionate kickings that Toddy had ever seen. It was a demonstration that would have been envied even by Shake's pachucos.

Not a kick was wasted. Each of the two men received two kicks in the guts, by way of obtaining temporary silence. Each received a kick in the temple, by way of making the silence more or less permanent. Each received three kicks in the face as a lasting memento of the kicking.

'Bien!' said the Mexican, smiling pleasantly at Toddy. 'I think that is enough, eh?' Then he bent over the motionless thugs, stuffed their wallets and Toddy's inside his shirt, and picked up the knife and blackjack.

'I have been put to much trouble,' he beamed. 'You do not mind the small present?'

'That money,' said Toddy, 'is all I have.'

'So? You want it very much, Seсor? '

'I guess not,' said Toddy. 'Not that much… How do I get out of here?'

'The table, Seсor. Drag it over to the window… You will excuse me if I do not help? It is an easy drop to the alley.'

Toddy nodded, dragged the table to the window, and stepped up on it-deliberately destroying as much of the display as he could.

'It is all right, Seсor,' the Mexican laughed softly. 'Everything is paid for.'

'Yeah.' Toddy grinned unwillingly. 'What happens to these characters? And their pachucos?'

'People come back here,' the Mexican explained, 'but no one go out. So, soon, very soon, my father will be alarmed.'

'Your father?'

'The bartender, Seсor. He will summon my brother, the waiter, who will call my two cousins, officers of the police…'

'Never mind.' Toddy hoisted himself into the window. 'I know the rest. Your uncle, the judge, will give them ninety days in jail. Right?'

'But no, Seсor'-the Mexican's voice trailed after Toddy as he dropped into the alley-'he will give them at least six months.'

Toddy plodded down the alley to the street, lighted the last of his cigarettes, and threw the package away. He thrust a hand into his pocket, drew it out with his sole remaining funds. Sixteen cents. Three nickels and a penny. Not enough to-

A hand closed gently but firmly over his elbow. A blue-uniformed cop looked down at the coins, and up into his face.

'You are broke, Seсor? A vagrant?'

'Certainly not.' Toddy made his voice icy. 'I'm a San Diego businessman. Just down here for a little holiday.'

'I think not, Seсor. Businessmen do not take leak in alley.'

'But I didn't-' Toddy caught himself.

'For vagrancy or leak,' said the cop, 'the fine is ten dollars. You may pay me.'

'I-just give me your name and address,' said Toddy. 'I'll have to send it to you.'

'Let's go,' said the cop brusquely, in the manner of cops the world over.

Toddy started to protest. The officer immediately released his grip, unholstered a six-shooter, and leveled it at Toddy's stomach.

'We do not like vagrants here, Seсor, even as you do not like them in your country. A ver' long time ago I visit your country. I am a wetback, yes, but no one care. The lettuce must be harvest' and I work very cheap. Then I complain I do not get my wages an' I am sick from the food- cagada, dung-and everyone care ver' much. I am illegal immigrant. I am vagrant. I go to jail for long time… It is good word, vagrant. I learn it in your country. Now move. Anda!'