Fast Buck

Noddy was leaning against a tree, trying to get his breath back. Hater lay at his feet.

‘Come on!’ Come on!’ Baird said. ‘Do you want them to catch up with you?’

‘I’m beat,’ Noddy panted. ‘I can’t carry him any farther.’

Baird thrust the Winchester into Noddy’s hand, bent and pul ed Hater up and across his broad shoulders.

‘Come on!’ he said. ‘You go ahead.’

Noddy went forward, still gasping for breath.

By the time Baird reached the hut, he was breathing heavily. Hater was heavier than he looked, and the heat in the swamp seemed to drain all Baird’s strength.

Rico came to the door. He was trembling and his white face looked ghastly.

‘Are they coming this way?’ he asked fearful y.

Baird shoved him aside and entered the hut. He let Hater slide off his shoulder on to the floor.

Both Rico and Noddy followed him in. Noddy stood by the window, looking down the path and the way they had come.

‘Give Noddy the money,’ Baird said to Rico. ‘Twenty-five Cs. Snap it up! We’ve got to get to the boat.’

Rico stared at him.

‘Aren’t you going to wait here, like we planned?’ he asked.

‘If you’d done your job like I told you,’ Baird said furiously, ‘we could have waited. But now those guys know we’ve come this way. We’ve got to get out quick.’

‘I couldn’t help it…’ Rico said, wringing his hands.

‘Shut up!’ Baird exclaimed. ‘Get the money!’

Rico staggered over to his suitcase. As he fumbled with the locks, Noddy said sharply, ‘Hold it!

Leave it alone! I’l take it as it is.’ He had a gun in his hand, and it pointed at Baird. ‘I’m going to have more than five grand for this job. Make a move, and I’ll give it to you in the guts!’

III

Rico remained like a statue, looking helplessly at Baird. There were seven thousand dollars in cash in the suitcase: every nickel he owned. His hand gripped the handle of the case convulsively. He had warned Baird, and now this pigeon-chested double-crosser would take the money and shoot them.

Baird stood very still, his eyes on Noddy’s gun. His face was expressionless, but the muscle below his right eye was twitching.

‘Turn around,’ Noddy said, ‘then shed your rod. Drop it on the floor. Don’t try anything funny. I’m a dead shot at this range. Go on! Turn around!’

Baird turned. Slowly his right hand went inside his coat and pulled out the Colt. Rico saw him softly thumb back the safety-catch.

Noddy said, ‘This is where you get yours, pal. I’l get a pat on the back for rubbing you two out and capturing Hater. Drop that rod!’

It happened so quickly Rico had no idea how Baird did it.

Baird jumped to the right and turned at the same time. Noddy fired and missed. Baird’s gun exploded three times; the gun flashes lit up the dark hut. Noddy dropped his gun, clutched his stomach with both hands and bent forward as if he had a hinge to his spine. He stood like that for a second or so, then his knees buckled and he fell forward on his face.

Baird stood over him.

Shuddering with relief, Rico came over and peered down at Noddy. All he could think of was that the money was safe.

‘The mug,’ Baird said softly, and stirred Noddy with his foot. ‘To have tried to pul that ancient gag on me.’

Noddy groaned. He looked up at Baird, his breath whistling in his throat.

Baird knelt by his side and ran his hands over his clothes. He found the roll of bills he had given Noddy the previous night.

‘He won’t need his turkey farm now,’ Baird said, and put the money in his hip pocket. ‘Come on! It’s time we moved. Give me a hand with Hater. Where’s that bandage?’

Rico found the wide roll of adhesive bandage, and together they strapped Hater’s hands and ankles together. Baird strapped up Hater’s mouth.

‘I’ll carry him. You bring the case and the Winchester,’ Baird went on. ‘They’re certain to have heard the shots.’

While Rico went over to pick up the case, Baird again bent over Noddy. He had stopped breathing.

Baird touched the artery in his throat. Then he straightened with a little grunt.

‘He won’t double-cross anyone again,’ he muttered.

Then he hauled the unconscious Hater across his shoulder and moved to the door.

Rico followed him down the path, carrying the case and the Winchester.

Rico’s mind was in a whirl. They had got Hater, but they had still to get out of this awful swamp.

They had still a twelve-hour paddle down the river ahead of them before they reached the place where the get-away car was hidden.

Even if they got Hater away, there was still the complex business of getting the money from Kile. The whole scheme now seemed to Rico to be a madman’s pipe-dream.

A distant sound suddenly brought him to a standstill as if he had run against a brick wall. Baird had heard it too, and had also stopped. Both of them looked back along the path. Baird had his gun out.

Away in the distance they could hear the barking of dogs. Even as they listened the barking got nearer.

‘Snap it up!’ Baird exclaimed. ‘They’ve got our scent.’