hurriedly.
“Leave her alone,” I said sternly. “Besides, all that make-up might poison you.”
“As a matter of fact,” Whisky said with a leer, “it was extraordinarily tasty. But apart from that, I was just trying to revive her.”
“She doesn’t need reviving,” I returned. “She’s happier the way she is.”
“Can’t you stop him?” Clancy pleaded, gaping at Whisky as if he was some monster. “I can’t stand any more of this.”
Myra swooped past me. “What do we do now?” she asked. “Shall I run away?”
“No,” I said. “We can’t go on like this. We’ll all go along to Summers and let him sort everything out.”
She settled lower and then stretched out within my grasp. I pulled her to me and kissed her.
“It’ll be all right,” I promised. “They’ll have to listen to reason.”
Clancy tried to pull himself together. “Can’t you persuade that dame to stand on her feet?” he pleaded. “It’s doing me no good at all seeing her that way.”
Myra frowned at him. “I’m not considering you,” she said. “You’ve never done anything for me.”
“You remain like that,” I urged. “The more people who see you like that the more witnesses we’ll have. Let’s go, sweetheart.”
I took her by her shoulders and began pushing her towards the door.
It must have been a pretty upsetting sight. Myra lay full length, suspended in the air, with her hands folded across her chest. It was like pushing a perambulator that hadn’t any wheels.
Whisky fell in step beside me. “Going through the streets like that, old pal?” he asked.
“That’s the idea,” I said firmly, leaving Myra in mid-air while I opened the shop door.
“Hey!” Clancy said, running up to me. “You can’t do a thing like that!”
“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” I said grimly.
He looked round desperately. “You guys!” he shouted to the cringing patrolmen. “Get these two into the wagon.”
The patrolmen hesitated and then approached us warily.
“I think we’re going to have a little trouble,” I said to Myra. She lowered her feet to the ground. “Leave this to me,” she said, her eyes snapping fire, “I’ve been very good up to now. If they’re going to be nasty then I’ll be nasty, too.”
Now she was on the ground, the patrolmen seemed to regain some of their courage. They came towards us in a body.
Myra flickered her fingers at them and they suddenly paused. “It’s beginning to rain,” one of them said uneasily.
“What are you talking about?” Clancy snarled. “It doesn’t matter if it rains! Arrest that woman!”
A big Irish cop extended his hand and then went a little pale.
“Holy Moses!” he said in a strangled voice. “It’s raining in here!”
I thought Clancy would go out of his mind. “It don’t rain indoors, you punk!” he stormed.
“I’ll tear that badge off your coat if you don’t do what I tell you!”
Myra flicked her fingers in his direction and almost immediately he stiffened. “Gawd!” he said looking up at the ceiling. “It is raining!”
“Didn’t I tell you,” the Irish cop said feverishly. “I think I’ll get out of here.”
This intrigued me. Over each patrolman and Clancy I could see a light sprinkle of water falling. It didn’t come from the ceiling but seemed to start a few feet above them.
As they moved uneasily the shower of water followed them. It was the damnedest thing I’d ever seen.
“Are you doing this?” I whispered to Myra.
“Certainly,” she said. “Didn’t you know I could make rain? It’s an old Naguale custom.” She suddenly spied the red-head who was sitting up in a dazed kind of way. “And a little rain might improve that young woman’s complexion,” she went on grimly.
She flicked her fingers in the red-head’s direction.
There was no question of a sprinkle of water this time. It began to rain in torrents. The redhead screamed wildly and getting to her feet, she dashed round the room. The narrow ribbon of pouring water followed her ruthlessly. In a few seconds she was soaked to the skin.
“I think that will do,” Myra said, looking pleased. “She’s not nearly so attractive, is she?” Right now the red- head looked like something that’d got lost in a river.
“You’re right,” I said, wondering if I was losing my mind. Myra flicked her fingers and the rain stopped.
The cops and Clancy began mopping themselves with their handkerchiefs. The red-head lay on the floor and drummed hysterically with her heels.
“If there’s any more talk about wagons,” Myra said coldly, “it’ll begin raining again.”
“Do what you like, lady,” Clancy said brokenly. “I ain’t making trouble.”
Myra resumed her suspended position. “Push me through the streets,” she said to me. “All the way to police headquarters. Then we’ll have lots of witnesses, won’t we?”
As I began to push her to the door again, Sam Bogle entered the shop.
One look was enough to see that Sam had been hitting the bottle. He didn’t look at any of us except Myra.
“Don’t think you’re getting away with it,” he said. “Doc was a pal of mine and no jury can kill a pal of mine and get away with it.”
We were all so startled that no one moved. Myra lowered her feet to the floor and faced him.
“I didn’t kill him,” she said quietly. “You ought to know that, Sam.”
“You killed him all right,” Sam said, his eyes gleaming evilly.
“Well, this is where you get yours.”
“Look out!” Whisky shouted and sprang forward.
He was too late. Sam fired from his hip. I saw the flash from the gun. Myra took two tottering steps forward. Then she spread out on the floor.
No one could do anything but stare. Sam let the gun slide out of his hand.
Then I ran to Myra. As I bent over her, I heard Sam’s voice wailing.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” he kept saying “Honest to Gawd, I didn’t mean to do it.”
I went into the little room with Whisky.
Myra was lying flat. She looked small and white and just to see her turned my heart over.
I sat down and took her hand.
She opened her eyes. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said.
Whisky pushed his long muzzle on the bed. She touched his ears for a moment before turning to me again.
“There was no one big enough to keep me out,” I said, trying to smile. “Please get well, sweetheart, I can’t get along without you.”
“I’ll get well,” she said, “only, I’m tired. I’ll be better when I’ve had some sleep. I don’t want to stay awake any more.”
“Listen, kid, the doctor says you’re not trying,” I went on, stroking her wrist, “you must fight. There’s Whisky and me wanting you. You can’t pass us up.”
“It’s awfully hard,” she said drowsily. “I have only half my resistance. If my other half were here I know I’d be all right.”
Then I realized why she couldn’t get well. She had to have Arym to help her fight. Before I could say anything, a nurse came in and beckoned to me.
I petted Myra’s hand. “I’ll be back,” I said. “Promise you’ll wait for me.”
She kept her eyes open with an effort. “Come back soon,” she said urgently.
I went out into the hall again.
Summers said, “She’s pretty bad, isn’t she?”
“I guess so,” I returned. “Can I take a walk around the block! This place gives me a pain.”
“Sure,” he said sympathetically, “I know how you feel.”
I went over to Bogle. “Cheer up,” I said, “I’m doing all I can for her.”
