pin somethin’ on to you… don’t you think he won’t.”
Roxy called, “We gotta switch cars… this broken screen’ll stop us. I’m goin’ on a bit further, then we’ll have to walk.”
They drove on in silence. The night was very dark. There was no moon, and heavy threatening clouds hung low. Once in the open, the big beams of the car lit up the dirt road and they lurched and jolted as Roxy tried to keep up speed.
Dillon said in an undertone to Myra, “You got any dough?”
She said quickly, “What you think? I came away in a rush.” She put her hand cautiously on her bag that hung on her wrist. Dillon leant forward and ripped the bag from her. For a moment she hesitated, then she flung herself forward. Dillon was expecting her to start something, and he swung a backhand, knocking her into the corner of the car. “Cut it out,” he said viciously. “You ain’t got no dough, so what you gettin’ sore about?”
He put his hand inside the bag and felt the big roll of money. He grinned to himself in the dark. Taking the roll out, he transferred it to his own pocket. He tossed the bag into her lap.
She said feverishly, “Give me that dough.”
Dillon said, “Be careful.” There was such an ugly threat in his voice that she shivered.
Roxy slowed down. “Springdale’s just ahead,” he said, “I guess we’ll ditch this heap an’ walk.”
He ran the car off the road and stopped. The three climbed out. Dillon said. “I’ll look good carrying this Thompson.”
Roxy said, “Suppose you wrap it in your coat?”
Dillon took off his coat and did as Roxy suggested. They began to walk down the dark road. Round the bend they could see lights.
Roxy said, “This guy we’re goin’ to has big ideas. You’ll have to pay him plenty.”
Dillon said coldly, “We’ll see about that.”
They walked some way, Myra between the two men. Her mind was busy as she stumbled along the dirt road, not seeing where she was going. Dillon had got her money; without that she couldn’t leave him. The Feds wouldn’t stop until they got Dillon. Especially a guy like Strawn, who was just laying for him. Somehow or other she had got to get the money away from Dillon and get out quick, before anything happened. The Feds hadn’t the same ideas as the cops when handling a woman.
“That’s it,” Roxy said suddenly.
Just ahead of them they could see the outline of a building. One solitary light gleamed through the window.
They hastened their lagging steps. Roxy said, “We’ll go in the back, quiet.”
They left the road and worked their way to the back of the building. It was so dark Myra kept stumbling, but the two men didn’t offer to help her. She gritted her teeth furiously. She was on her own against these two, but she wasn’t scared. She had plenty of confidence in herself.
Roxy rapped on the door with his knuckles. Alter a short wait, the door opened A tall, thin form of a man peered at them.
“That you, Joe?” Roxy said. “Gee! Joe, it’s nice to see you. These are a couple of friends of mine…. Can we come in?”
The man stood aside Sure,” he said, without enthusiasm, “come on in.”
They entered a small, poorly furnished room, lit by an oil lamp. Roxy said, “This is Joe Chester, the guy I told you about.
Joe had a thin skull-like face, and his big yellow teeth stuck out, giving him a foxy look. He glanced at the three furtively, rubbing his hands on the seat of his trousers. “I guess I’m glad to know you,” he said.
Dillon grunted. He glanced at Roxy and jerked his head.
Roxy said, “Listen, Joe. We wantta lie up here for a little while. Can you fix it? You know how it is.”
Joe said, “I’ll get a drink I guess we can talk better with a drink.”
He went out of the room.
Dillon said, “I don’t like that guy.”
Roxy shrugged. “He’s okay. He’ll fix us, you see.”
Joe came back with a bottle and glasses. He put them on the table. The others sat down Myra sat away from them by the window. She glanced out into the dark night from time to time.
When the drinks were fixed, Joe said, “How long?”
“Maybe a couple of weeks, not more,” Roxy said.
“It’ll cost you a grand a week ” Joe said, sniffing at his whisky.
Dillon moved jerkily, but Roxy put out his hand. “Wait a minute,” he said.
Dillon shook his hand off. “This guy ain’t goin’ to start skinning me,” he snarled. “A grand? You’re crazy!”
An oily smile went over Joe’s face. “It came over the radio ten minutes ago,” he said softly. “You three are wanted by the Department of Justice for pinching a car, and the State police are after you for the murder of Hurst.”
There was dead silence in the room. Myra ran her fingers through her hair. She shot a look of hatred at Dillon, but she said nothing. He started it and it was up to him to see it through.
Dillon stood up. “So what?” he said.
Joe spread his dirty hands on the table. He nodded his head. “You three are hot. You’re too damned hot. I know Roxy…. I’m a friend of his, so I take risks, but I guess I gotta get well paid for takin’ ’em.”
Dillon wandered over to Joe. “You’ll get well paid, but you ain’t gettin’ a grand a week. You’ll take five hundred bucks an’ like it, get it?”
Joe shook his head. “That ain’t any use to me, mister…” he began.
Dillon reached out and gripped Joe’s shirt. “Listen, punk,” he snarled. “I’m booked to sit on the end of a stream of hot juice—one more guy to get knocked off don’t help me anyway, see?”
Joe turned a dirty white. “You’re the boss, mister,” he said hoarsely. “My ma’ll look after you. We gotta farm in the hills. Roxy knows it. They won’t find you there.”
Dillon took his hand away and, glanced at Roxy, who nodded at him. “Sure,” Roxy said, “it’s a good place.”
“We want another car,” Dillon said.
Joe said, “I’ll sell you mine. It’s old, but, by heck, it goes all right!”
Dillon turned his back so that Joe couldn’t see the size of his roll. He pulled off some bills and put the rest in his pocket.
“I’ll give you twelve hundred bucks. That’s for the car an’ two weeks’ rent.”
Joe took the money and counted it carefully. He couldn’t keep the pleasure off his face. He just gloated at the sight of so much dough.
Dillon walked over to him. His face was hard. “Listen, bozo,” he said. “Get the car an’ get some drink on board. I want a pile of grub too. That comes outta the dough I’ve just slipped you.”
Joe looked at him and cringed a little. “Sure,” he said; “I’m glad to help you folks.”
When he had gone out, Dillon said to Roxy, “You think you’re smart? Pushin’ me on to a chiseler like that.”
Roxy didn’t say anything. He just shrugged. They stood there waiting.
Joe came back. “The car’s ready,” he said. “You’ve got plenty of gas. I’ve put in the things you want.”
Dillon said, “Can you find this dump, Roxy?”
“Sure, I know where it is.”
“Well, come on for God’s sake. We ain’t got all night to hang about.”
Joe saw them to the door. “I’ll be over in a few days. I’ll let you know how things go.”
Dillon grunted and got in the back of the car with Myra. Roxy took the wheel. The car shot off into the night.
Roxy kept the pedal down. The car tore down the rough road, jolting them violently.
“This place far?” Dillon shouted to him.
Roxy shook his head; then, remembering that Dillon couldn’t see him, shouted, “No. It’ll take us about a couple of hours.”
