Roxy, for something better to do, had turned his attention to the farm. Dillon was too lazy to do that. Chrissie followed Roxy about like a dog. She had got over her first shyness and Roxy quite liked her. She was amused at most things he said, which flattered him, and she helped him with the work on the farm.
He was quite startled at her strength. She would think nothing of shifting heavy sacks or logs of wood, that made Roxy sweat to move. Under his directions, put in the simplest way, she carried out quite a programme. Sometimes she got bored and began to fool, then Roxy took her off for a walk.
Dillon watched them contemptuously. He made no attempt to join them. Roxy never discussed her when they were alone. Chrissie went to bed around eight o’clock, arid Roxy and Dillon played cards monotonously into the night.
It was Sunday, and Dillon was jittery. Joe Chester was coming out, and he’d have news. Cut away from the radio and the newspapers, neither of the men knew what was going on. Even Roxy couldn’t get up any enthusiasm to play with Chrissie. He hung around the shack doing odd jobs, his eye on the dirt road.
It was after ten o’clock when Joe turned up. He came bumping along the dirt road in a new car. He looked mighty pleased with himself.
Chrissie was the first to spot him, and she lumbered down the road to meet him. Joe stopped the car and let her get in.
Dillon and Roxy watched them. Dillon said, “We gotta get this punk alone.”
Roxy said, “Sure… we’ll get him all right.”
It was some little time before Joe could get round to them. Ma Chester and Chrissie were all over him. Even old man Chester wakened up and had something to say. By the time Joe shook them off, Dillon was in a vile temper.
The three of them walked into the wood, and when they were some distance from the shack, they sat down on the grass.
Dillon said, “Now come on, for God’s sake. What’s been goin’ on?”
Joe gave him a worried look. “I don’t like it,” he said, wagging his head. “The Feds are raising hell.”
“What you mean, raising hell? Got a newspaper with you?”
Joe shook his head. He seemed quite surprised at the idea. “No, I ain’t got no newspaper,” he said.
Dillon looked at Roxy, his face dark with fury. “What a guy!” he snarled. “Came from town an’ ain’t got the goddam sense to bring a newspaper.”
Even Roxy was put out. “Why, Joe,” he said, “I guess that’s dumb.”
“Dumb?” Dillon snarled. “Why…” he broke off, spluttering.
Joe looked concerned. “If I thought you guys wanted a paper, I’d’ve brought it.”
Dillon nearly struck him. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “Listen, you bohunk,” he said at last. “We gotta have a radio up here, see? I gotta know what’s goin’ on. I’ll go nuts in this dump if I don’t get some information through.”
Joe nodded. “Sure, I’ll bring one up when I get round again.”
Dillon said, “You’ll bring one up right away.”
Roxy hastily said, “Well, come on, Joe, what’s been happening?”
Joe looked glum again. “The Feds have been in to see me. They’ve been everywhere. They found the car you ditched not far from my place…. I guess that was a smart thing to do.”
Dillon demanded, “Do they know you’ve got this dump up here?”
Joe shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “I guess they don’t. Look here, Mister, it ain’t goin’ to be good for me or my folks if they catch you here.”
“What the hell do you think I’m payin’ you a thousand bucks for?” Dillon snarled.
“I was comin’ to that.” Joe shifted his eyes. “I guess I had a bad bit of luck the other day. I lost that dough in a crap game.”
Dillon stiffened. “What the blazes has that got to do with me?” he demanded.
Joe picked at the grass, keeping his head turned. “Why, I guess maybe you’re right. It ain’t got a lot to do with you, but I just told you.”
Dillon said, “See here, Chester, I gave you that dough to keep us under cover. If you’ve lost it, that’s too bad, but it ain’t our funeral, see?”
Joe shifted the conversation. “Ma tells me you’ve made a swell job of work with the old fence,” he said to Roxy.
Roxy shrugged. “I’d go nuts tryin’ to pass the time. I enjoyed doin’ it.”
Dillon said between his teeth, “Suppose you skip this an’ tell me what’s been goin’ on.”
“Sure I’ll tell you.” Joe leant back on his elbows, raising his skull-like face to the sun. “Well, you know how it is, the newspapers have been playin’ the Hurst murder up. The Feds have been lookin’ for you. Comin’ round asking questions. Huntin’ around; you know how it is.”
Dillon said, “They don’t suspect you?”
Joe shook his head. “Did I tell you they’re offering five grand reward for you guys?”
Both Roxy and Dillon stiffened. “Five thousand bucks?” Roxy said unsteadily.
“That’s right,” Joe said: “I guess they sure want you guys bad.”
There was a heavy silence while the two turned it over. Joe went on, “I rigger to some people five grand would come very nice.”
He got to his feet. “I gotta get back to Ma. She gets mad as hell if I don’t hang around when I’m up here. I’ll be seein’ you boys before I go.”
He went away, his long thin legs moving stiffly through the grass.
Roxy said in a low voice, “Did you get it?”
Dillon clenched his fists. “He ain’t gettin’ another dime outta me,” he said. “The double-crossin’ rat.”
“Listen, Nick, don’t do anythin’ foolish. If we don’t square this guy, he’s goin’ to squeal. He said as much, didn’t he?”
“How the hell do we know they’re offerin’ a reward?” Dillon raved. “Suppose they ain’t lookin’ for us an’ this is a frame to skin me?”
Roxy shook his head. He was nervous. “I’d hate to call his bluff,” he said. “We don’t stand much chance if the Feds come up here.”
Dillon took his roll of money out of his pocket and thumbed it through. He had two thousand dollars and two fifty notes.
Roxy watched him. “Maybe he’d take the two grand an’ call it square.”
Dillon’s hand shook with fury. “We give him this dough an’ he can still turn us in,” he said.
Roxy shook his head. “I guess he ain’t that low. I know Joe, he wouldn’t do that.”
Dillon got to his feet. “I do the payin’ an’ save your hide,” he snarled. “Ain’t you got any dough?”
Roxy looked uncomfortable. “Hell, Bud,” he said, “I ain’t gotta nickel. I’m in this with you…. Didn’t I tip you what was happenin’?”
Dillon shrugged and walked towards the house. Joe saw them coming and came out walking to meet them.
Dillon said slowly, “Listen. This five grand reward comes tough on a guy like you. We wouldn’t like you to lose by it.”
Joe’s eyes glistened. “You got me wrong, Mister,” he said hastily. “I ain’t hankerin’ after the reward. I guess I’m glad to hide you guys up. I only said I’d lost the dough you gave me an’ was a bit short.”
Dillon’s eyes hated him. “We figgered maybe two grand would set you up.”
Dillon saw Joe hesitate. He saw the look of doubt in his eyes. He thought, the bastard’s going to turn it down. He went on hastily, “Two grand can buy plenty.”
Joe said, “Sure, it’s mighty fine of you guys.” His long bony hand came out. Dillon gave him the small roll of notes. Joe counted them, his hand shaking a little. The greed in his eyes scared Roxy.
Dillon watched him. “I expect some work for that,” he said, keeping the rage out of his voice with an effort. “Don’t go makin’ mistakes, will you? We got your ma an’ pa up here, Joe.”
Joe’s eyes opened. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about,” he said quickly. “You’ve fixed me up fine…. The Feds won’t bother you if I can help it.”
“You’d better see to that,” Dillon said viciously.
