The World in My Pocket

‘It slays me to think they could have kept it hidden even as long as this with so many guys hunting for it. Looks like the driver’s one of them, doesn’t it? That poor guard - what’s his name? Dirkson. Well, I reckon they should look after his widow.’

Hadfield, listening, said, ‘That smash was a fake so they say. It means a woman is working with the gang. The guard radioed back to the Agency just before he was killed. They’re checking on this guy Thomas, the driver, now to see if there was a woman in his life besides his wife.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind having the reward,’ Bradford said. ‘My kid says he’s going to take a walk through the woods. He kids himself he’ll find the truck.’ He laughed. ‘It’ll get him out of the way for a while. I’ve never known such a restless kid. He drives my good lady nuts.’

Hadfield shook his head.

‘They wouldn’t bring the truck here,’ he said. ‘There are too many people using these woods. I reckon if they’ve hidden it anywhere, it’ll be up at Fox Wood. Very few people get up there and it’s well off the beaten track.’

‘Yeah, but don’t tell my kid that,’ Bradford said. ‘That’s too far for him to go wandering off.’

Ginny came out of the store, carrying a sack of groceries.

‘Morning, Mrs. Harrison,’ Bradford said, lifting his hat. ‘So you got here all right?’

‘We got here,’ Ginny said smiling. She handed the sack to Kitson, then linked her arm through his, leaning against him, smiling at the two men who looked approvingly at her.

‘That’s the idea,’ Hadfield said. ‘Make use of your man, now you’ve got him. My wife says all a man is fit for is to carry parcels.’

Ginny looked up at Kitson.

‘I think you’re fit for many more things than carrying parcels, honey,’ she said.

As Kitson flushed, the two men laughed.

‘That’s what I like to hear,’ Hadfield said. ‘I’d like my good lady to hear that.’

‘Can we take a boat out, Mr. Hadfield?’ Ginny asked.

‘Why, sure. Just the right time now before it gets too hot. You know where the boat house is? You see Joe there. He’ll fix it for you.’

‘Well, then I guess we’ll get along,’ Ginny said.

Bradford said, ‘Any time you feel like a little company, Mr. Harrison, we’re at cabin 20; about a quarter of a mile from yours. Be glad to see you.’

Hadfield dug his elbow into Bradford’s ribs.

‘They’re on their honeymoon,’ he said. ‘Whose company do you imagine they want except their own?’

Laughing, Ginny tugged at Kitson’s arm, and they moved off down the path, arm-in-arm, her head against his shoulder.

The two men looked after them and then they glanced at each other a little ruefully.

‘I guess that guy is lucky,’ Hadfield said. ‘What a pretty thing she is! Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind changing places with him.’

Bradford grinned a little furtively.

‘No comment,’ he said, ‘but I know just what you mean.’

When Kitson and Ginny got back to the cabin, Ginny left the sack of groceries in the kitchen while Kitson, after making sure no one was around, tapped on the caravan window.

Red faced and sweating, Bleck pushed up the window.

‘What is it?’ he snarled. ‘Is it hot in here! The goddamn flies are driving us crazy! We can’t even leave this window open. What do you want?’

‘Got the papers for you,’ Kitson said and pushed the papers through the window. ‘Anything you want?’

‘No! Get the hell away from here!’ Bleck snapped and slammed down the window.

He went around to the back of the truck where Gypo sat on a stool they had taken from the cabin, his ear pressed to the door of the truck, his fingers on the dial.

The heat in the caravan was insufferable, and Bleck had stripped off his coat and shirt; his hairy chest was running with sweat.

He watched Gypo for a few seconds, then shrugging, he sat on the floor and began to read the papers. A half an hour later, he threw the papers aside, and got up to see how Gypo was getting on.

Gypo sat still, his face congested, his eyes closed, listening intently, his fingers just moving the dial.

‘Sweet suffering Pete!’ Bleck exploded. ‘Do you reckon to do that for the next ten days?’

Gypo started and opened his eyes.

‘Be quiet!’ he said angrily. ‘How can I work if you keep talking?’

‘If I don’t get some air soon I’ll bust a gut,’ Bleck said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. ‘Look, can’t we fix this curtain to keep the flies out and open the window?’

‘You fix it,’ Gypo said. ‘If you want me to open this truck, leave me alone.’

Bleck glared at him, then he went to the tool cupboard and took out a box of thumb tacks and a hammer. He nailed the curtain tightly to the window frame, then raised the window through the curtain.

He looked out on to the stretch of lake, seeing Ginny and Kitson embarking in a rowing boat. A spurt of jealous anger ran through him as Kitson rowed the boat away from the landing stage.

‘That bum’s got it easy!’ he burst out. ‘I should have had that job! There he goes.’

Gypo put his head around the side of the truck.

‘Will you pipe down!’ he said shrilly. ‘How can I work?’

‘Okay, okay, okay,’ Bleck snarled. ‘Quit yelling at me!’