Big Jim examined him curiously. “You’re a persistent guy, Dan. You’ve tried to take me at least ten times since the first time I heat hell out of you twenty-five years ago. And all it ever got you was more bumps.”
Stepping behind his desk, Big Jim dropped the gun in a drawer, locked it and put the key in his pocket.
“All right, sucker,” he said, grinning at Dan. “Come get your bumps.”
During the short part of a minute between Dan’s last remark to the bartender and the actual arrival of the state police, the bartender took off like a jet-propelled plane, leaving. Stub still unconscious. Consequently when the troopers arrived, trailed by Adrian Fact and Adele Hudson, they found no one to explain the combination of the knobless door next to the bar. A husky trooper was just preparing to solve the combination with an axe, when the door opened from inside and Dan Fancy staggered out.
Dan’s coat was gone and the whole left side of his shirt hung from his belt in shreds, exposing half his hairy chest and one naked arm. One of his trouser legs was ripped from cuff to hip, and flopped open to disclose blood welling from a perfect set of teeth marks in the fleshy part of his calf. His left eye was tightly closed and the other was slowly swelling shut. Blood from both nostrils dribbled across his mouth and seeped from the end of his chin.
Supporting himself with one hand against the door jamb, he focused his remaining eye blearily on Adrian Fact and opened the other hand to exhibit a large yellow molar, obviously not his own.
“I finally grew up to the big bum,” he said in groggy triumph.
Then he pitched forward on his face...
Martin Robinson stood stiff and straight as his son approached the group waiting for him at the prison gate, but something yearning in the old man’s expression told Dan he would bow right down to the ground for a smile from his son.
Eugene Robinson glanced without interest at Adrian Fact, swept his gaze curiously over Dan Fancy’s bruised features, then flashed his dazzling smile as he took both Adele Hudson’s hands and gave them a light squeeze. Apparently he considered it too public a place to exhibit more affection.
Last of all the young man turned to his father. “Hello, Dad,” he said tonelessly.
The old man winced. “Are you ready to come home now, Gene?” he asked.
In a careless tone Gene said, “I rather thought I’d get married instead.”
Martin Robinson smiled eagerly. “Your wife will always be as welcome as you are, son.”
Watching, Dan Fancy’s stomach sickened in sympathy for the lonely old man. He turned to Adrian Fact.
“Mr. Robinson’s check clear through yet, Ade?”
The little man glanced at him in surprise and nodded. Dan directed his next question to Adele Hudson.
“You don’t think it would be unfair to take advantage of a young man who wasn’t in death row, do you, Adele?”
Puzzled, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“Just this.”
Raising one large palm, he covered the face of Eugene Robinson with it and pushed. The young man staggered backward, tripped over a hedge and sat in the dust with a thump. Swinging Adele up in his arms like a baby, Dan strode toward the taxi which had brought him and Adrian to the prison.
“What I want with a woman stupid enough to fall for a twerp like that is beyond me,” he growled. “But maybe eventually I can train some sense into your head.”
He stopped to begin the training.
“Dan!” she squealed. “Kissing in public! What will Eugene think?”