“That’s a lot of pap. I suppose he said he’d pay you some more money, too.”
“Yep.”
“Which you’ll lose to Freddie’s crooked dice...”
“Huh?”
“You’re a sucker, Willie. The dice were loaded.”
“I know loaded dice when I see them.”
“There are all kinds of loaded dice. Those dice were shaved so they’d throw mostly low points.”
“Then they’d throw them for me, too.”
“Yeah — if you used the same dice he did all the time. Only he switched the bones on you about half the time.”
Willie’s eyes narrowed. “Freddie ain’t that smart.”
“No? Well, he’s got the money and you’ve got nothing. All the work you did today and what’ve you got to show for it? He didn’t even want to bring you anything to eat.”
“Cut it out!” yelled Willie angrily.
Peel shrugged. “If you want to be a sucker...”
Willie sprang to his feet and took a step toward Peel. But then he stopped. “Wise guy, huh?”
He sat down again with his back to the door. Peel crossed to the bunk and sprawled out on it. Ten minutes later he said: “Agoura ain’t that far away. He ought to be back now.”
“He’ll be back,” snapped Willie.
“After he has himself a big feed maybe...”
A few minutes later Peel looked at his watch again. “I’m hungry.”
“So am I,” screamed Willie. “Will you shut up about it?”
He got to his feet and stepped to the window. “He’s got to open and close all those gates.”
“I know. That’ll take him two-three minutes extra. Mmm, he’s probably having himself a nice thick steak. Well done.”
Willie stepped to the bed and threatened Peel with the gun in his fist. “One more yip out of you...”
Peel remained silent for a full five minutes, during which time Willie stepped twice to the window. Then he said, “I hope he doesn’t forget the mustard.”
Willie exclaimed, “Here he comes!”
Peel had already heard the humming of an automobile. A moment later it stopped. Willie threw open the door leading into the main part of the barn. As Freddie finally came in, he snarled, “Took you long enough!”
“I made it as quick as I could,” retorted Freddie. “I didn’t even have my own supper there. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t find a lunchroom. I got these groceries at a kind of a grocery store that’s with a gas station.”
He set two big paper bags down on the floor, reached into one. “Chicken, tongue, salmon, cookies. I spent over four bucks for grub.”
“Why didn’t you shoot them for it?” asked Peel. “Double or nothing.”
Willie grabbed Freddie’s shoulder. “Lemme see them dice of yours.”
“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Freddie.
“I had time to think about things. Lemme see the dominoes.”
“Have you gone off your rocker?”
Willie gestured to Peel. “He says he saw you changing dice.”
Freddie smiled icily. He got to his feet, brought a pair of red dice from his pocket. “Look ’em over, sport, look ’em over.” He handed the dice to Willie, then stepped across and, putting out his foot, suddenly shoved it violently against Peel’s chest as he sat on the cot Peel was slammed back against the wall.
“And just for that you don’t eat!”
Willie was examining the dice suspiciously. “These all you got?”
Freddie held up his arms. “Search me.”
Willie did exactly that. He felt every pocket of Freddie’s. When he finished he gave Peel a dirty look.
“He could have thrown them away,” said Peel defensively.
“Mister,” said Freddie, “you’re really asking for it. As soon as I get some food under my belt...”
He turned back to the groceries. “I even remembered to buy a can opener.” He exhibited it.
The two thugs ate a. hearty meal, washing it down with two bottles of beer apiece.
Then Peel sat up. “It’s getting dark.”
“It always gets dark around seven-thirty,” said Freddie sarcastically.
“Yeah, but there aren’t any electric lights here.”
“What do you need lights for?”
Peel shrugged. “I don’t.”
Willie and Freddie exchanged looks. Willie said, “He’s right. I don’t feel like sitting around here in the dark.”
“We can tear up that blanket and tie him,” suggested Freddie.
“Just the same, I’d like some light. They have any candles down at that store?”
“I guess they’ve got about everything from peanuts to thrashing machines.”
“Then give me some money and I’ll run down this time.”
“I’ll go.”
“You had your trip. It’s my turn now.”
With ill grace Freddie drew some money from his pocket. “Here’s a dollar...”
“We’ll need some more beer.”
Willie grabbed a ten-dollar bill from his hand. “You’ll get your change,” he snapped.
He stormed out. A moment later the lights of the car flashed on the burlap window curtain.
Freddie opened a bottle of beer and putting it to his mouth gurgled down about half of it. He lowered the bottle and smacked his lips.
“That hit the spot.”
“Eastern beer,” said Peel. “My favorite.”
“You’re not getting any of this,” retorted Freddie. “There’s only one more bottle left until Willie gets back.”
“Well, how about some food? There’s a half can of chicken left.”
Freddie shrugged. “Go ahead, eat it.”
Peel scooped up the half can of chicken, sat himself on the cot, and wolfed it down, using his fingers to scrape it out of the can.
He looked at one of the beer bottles on the floor. “Willie left a little beer in a bottle. Can I have it to wash this down?” Without waiting for a reply, he stooped forward and picked up the bottle. He drained the dregs, exhaled heavily in satisfaction.
He looked up to find Freddie scowling at him. “It’s getting dark,” the thug said. “I’m not going to sit around here with you in the dark.” He pointed the gun at Peel. “Start tearing that blanket into strips.”
Peel drew a deep breath. He got up and stripped the blanket from the cot. He shook it out with his left hand, concealing the empty beer bottle in his right.
“Grab hold of the end,” he said, flicking the blanket toward Freddie.
Freddie reached instinctively for the blanket and then Peel made his move. He lunged forward with the empty beer bottle and brought it down on the thug’s head with a crash, smashing the bottle.
Freddie cried out and reeled back. With his left hand Peel threw the blanket over Freddie’s head. Freddie went down. He was not entirely unconscious, floundering around under the blanket.
Peel waited no more. He might get the gun from Freddie and he might not. This was his chance. He jerked open the door and plunged through it into the darkened barn.
He ran out, headed across the barnyard for the false-fronted house. He reached it safely and stopped behind it. He strained his ears.
A muffled yell came from the barn. A tiny light flickered as Freddie struck a match. Peel crouched low and took off from behind the false-front.
He ran fifty yards, dropped headlong into the barley field.
Behind him he heard Freddie yell as he came out of the barn.
“Come on!” Freddie called out. “Come out or I’ll let you have it.”
Peel was sure that Freddie had not seen him. He lay still.
Freddie called out again. Then suddenly he fired. The bullet came nowhere close to Peel. He lay still in the barley field. It was already semidark and in ten minutes Freddie wouldn’t be able to see a dozen feet.
He listened, as Freddie roamed the barnyard, swearing and yelling.