Figure it Out For Yourself

We were in the foothills now, and the going was hard. We were climbing. Every now and then Joe would grunt, 'Take the right-hand path,' or 'Bear to your left,' but he didn't close the gap between us, and there was nothing I could do but keep walking.

By now the sun had dropped below the horizon, and the light was fading. Before very long it would be dark. That might give me an opportunity, but I knew I had to be careful. Joe looked as if he had been born with a gun in his hand, and it would have to get very dark before I took any chances with him.

'Okay, pally,' he said suddenly. 'Park yourself. We're going to have a breather. Turn around and sit down.'

I faced him.

He was about four yards away from me, and sweating like a pig. The uphill climb in this heat didn't agree with him.

He waved me to a rock while he picked one for himself, sat down stiffly, glad of the rest.

'Have a butt, pally,' he went on taking out a pack of Lucky Strike. He took one and tossed the pack to me. 'What's it like - in that mine?' he asked, lighting his cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke down his short thick nose.

'Not the kind of place you'd pick for a vacation,' I said, lighting a cigarette and tossing the pack back to him. 'It's full of man-eating rats.'

His small eyes bugged out

'Rats? I heard there were rats, but I didn't believe it.' He squinted down at his cigarette. 'See any reefers while you were in there?'

'About a couple of million of them. I didn't stop to count them, but that's a conservative guess.'

He grinned, showing small, broken teeth.

'Jeepers! As many as that, huh? I told her that's where he kept the stuff, but she wouldn't have it. How are they packed?'

'In boxes. Who is she?'

He scowled at me.

'I'm the guy who asks the questions, pally. You answer them.'

I had a sudden idea.

'What's your racket?' I asked. 'Hi-jacking Barratt?'

'You guessed it, pally. We're taking that stock of reefers. We have our own little organization now.' He stood up. 'Okay, let's go. Straight up the hill, and keep right. Get going.'

We went on up the hill. It was almost too dark now to see where I was going, but Joe seemed to have eyes like a cat, He kept jerking out directions, warning me away from rocks and shrubs, as if he could see as easily now as in the sunlight.

Suddenly he said, 'Hold it.'

I stopped and waited.

He gave a shrill whistle. A moment later a light flashed on a few yards in front of us, and I could see, carefully hidden behind a screen of trees and bushes, a cleverly concealed log cabin, built into the side of the hill.

'Neat, huh?' Joe said. 'We built it ourselves. You'd have to walk right on it before you knew it was there, and by that time you'd be as full of lead as a church roof. Go ahead. Walk right in.'

I went ahead.

The door stood open and I walked into a large, roughly furnished room. Standing before a log fire, her hands behind her back, a cigarette in her full red lips was Mary Jerome.

II

A white moth fluttered around the storm lantern hanging from a beam in the centre of the room, and cast an enormous shadow on the floor. It zoomed away from the light, fluttered rather helplessly round the room, and, as it passed Joe, he reached out, slapped it to the floor and put his foot on it

I didn't pay any attention to what he was doing. I was looking at Mary Jerome; the last person I expected to find in this cabin.

She was wearing a red-and-yellow cowboy shirt, a pair of canary-coloured corduroy slacks, and her dark hair was hidden under a red silk bandana. She was paler and more fine-drawn since last I saw her, but she was still lovely to look at.

'Hello,' I said. 'You may not believe it, but I've been hunting all over for you.'

'Pipe down, pally,' Joe said. 'No one asked you for a speech. Sit over there and keep quiet.'

He poked the gun into my spine, pushed me over to an armchair facing the fire.

I sat down.

'Where did you find him?' Mary Jerome asked.

Joe grinned at her, obviously very pleased with himself.

'He was in the mine. We spotted him coming out of the upper tunnel. He bolted into the desert, but we caught up with him.'

'Was he alone?'

'Why, sure.'

'Then why did he run into the desert?'

Joe frowned at her, ran his fingers through his short, crinkly hair.

'What do you mean?'

'If he wanted to get away, he would have run towards the Highway, wouldn't he?' she asked patiently.

Joe's face lost its animated expression. He turned to snarl at me.

'What's cooking, fella? Weren't you alone?'

'Why, no. I had a girl with me,' I told him. 'She's gone for the Law.'

Mary lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug.

'I give up, Joe,' she said in disgust. 'You make a mess of everything you handle.'

'For crying out aloud!' Joe said, his face turning red, 'How was I to know?'

'Never mind; but you better do something about it.'

'Yeah.' He pulled a face, glared at me. 'Jeepers! It means walking back to that damned mine again. Can you look after this fella?'

She nodded.

'I'll take care of him. You'd better hurry, Joe.'

'Want my gun?'