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Hollis switched on the radio.

“Sheriff?”

“Listening.”

“Weston’s back. He’s left the jeep outside the entrance.”

“Okay. Keep alert, Hank,” and Ross switched off.

Brown, his face a hard, suspicious mask, had his gun in his hand.

“Shut and bolt the door, Perry. Put the sack down. Now turn around. No tricks!”

Perry did as he was told and felt Brown’s powerful hands run over his body.

“Okay,” Brown said. “Now I’ll take a look at the sack. I never take chances. If there’s a gun in it, you’re dead!”

With a swift movement, he upended the sack and surveyed its contents, then he grinned at Perry.

“You’re smart. Onions, huh? You like onions?”

“Where’s my wife?” Perry said.

“No problem. She’s upstairs, unpacking. I said you play straight with me and I’ll play straight with you. Let’s talk.”

Holstering his gun, he walked into the living room. “What’s the news?”

Perry followed him and sat down. “I’ve got the money. Ten thousand in one hundred dollar bills.”

“Man! Aren’t you smart!” Brown said, leaning against the wall. “What’s the pressure like?”

“I talked to the Sheriff. The search for you has shifted to Miami. There is no pressure here.”

Brown stared at him. “This straight?”

With an effort, Perry kept his face expressionless. “Straight.”

“Did you talk to the Deputy?”

“No.”

“Did you see him?” Here it is, Perry thought, sure that the lean, tough looking Deputy was the man up in the tree, overlooking the lodge. He took out a pack of cigarettes.

“I saw him,” he lied. “He was doing something to the patrol car. I didn’t speak to him.”

“Straight?” There was a snap in Brown’s voice.

Perry lit the cigarette. “Straight.”

“The Sheriff is nothing, but that Deputy...” Brown rubbed his chin. “So, okay, the pressure’s off. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s the money?”

“In the jeep.” Brown’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t sit there! Go, get it! I want to see what ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills look like.”

Perry had never ceased to marvel at the speed of thought. In that split second, as he stared up at Brown, a thought flashed into his mind. Suppose he told Brown to get the money himself? Suppose Brown, anxious to lay his hands on the money, thoughtlessly went out to the jeep?

Find a pretext to get him out into the open.

“Hear me?” Brown snarled. “Go, get it!”

No, Perry thought. It would be far too dangerous to tell this man to get it himself. Looking at Brown, seeing the suspicious gleam in his eyes, Perry decided Brown wouldn’t go, and, what was more, he would begin to distrust him. If he was to get Brown into the open, he would have to think of a much more subtle method.

He got slowly to his feet, crushed out his cigarette, then walked to the door. “I’ll get it.”

Brown followed him to the front door, his gun now in his hand. He drew the bolts.

“No tricks, Perry,” he said. “Hurry it up.”

Hollis, in his tree, heard the bolts being drawn. He snatched up his rifle, ready for action. Then seeing Perry come hurriedly out of the lodge to the jeep, he muttered a curse.

Was Logan never going to show himself?

He watched Perry return to the lodge, a big, bulky envelope in his hand. The money, of course, he thought. Well, this could be the start of something. But suppose Logan took off when it was dark? He would have to stay alert from now on. There would be no question of sleep.

Cradling the rifle, he leant his aching back against the tree and waited. Half an hour crept by. At least the mosquitoes seemed bored with tormenting him, and it was turning cooler. What he would give for a cigarette! Then something happened which he wished would never have happened. He heard a rustle in the undergrowth that stiffened him to attention, his hands gripping the rifle. Then a dog began to bark.

He peered down, but the tree foliage was so thick he couldn’t see the ground.

He could hear the dog snarling and barking at the foot of the tree. Then he heard a man call out, “Found something up there, Jacko? Come on! You ain’t no tree climber!” With sweat running down his face, Hollis raised himself. He could see a tall, thickset man, a fishing rod in his hand, by the river.

The dog continued to bark savagely.

Hollis remained motionless. What a goddamn giveaway, he thought. Logan must hear the dog! The man called again, a snap in his voice. “Jacko! To heel!” The dog abruptly stopped barking and joined the man on the river path. The man bent and patted the dog, and the two moved on, passing the lodge. For a moment, the man paused to stare at the parked jeep, then went on, the dog obediently following him.

As Perry returned to the lodge, Brown snatched the envelope from his hand and slammed and bolted the door.

“Ten thousand dollars, huh?” Brown grinned at Perry. “Man! You’re smart!” He moved into the sitting room.

“I want to talk to my wife,” Perry said. “You count the money, Jim. Just make sure I haven’t cheated you.”

Brown’s steel like fingers closed on his arm. “Plenty of time, Perry,” he said. “You have a lifetime to talk to your wife. She’s okay. You played straight with me. I told you I’d play straight with you. I want to talk to you.”

Knowing resistance would be dangerous, Perry went with him into the living room. He watched as Brown spilled out the bills on the table.

“Man! Money!” Brown muttered. “The most beautiful sight in the world!” He pushed the bills around with a thick finger. “I’ve never seen so much money.” He turned and grinned at Perry. “You’re smart, Perry.”

“I want to talk to my wife,” Perry said quietly.

“Sure. You said that before.” Brown began to gather up the bills, pushing them into the envelope. “Okay, sit down. I want to go over this again.”

Containing his impatience, Perry sat down and lit a cigarette. Brown sat opposite him, the envelope in his hand.

“Go over what again?” Perry asked.

“You saw that old fart of a Sheriff... right?”

“I saw him.”

“And he told you the cops are now looking for me in Miami... right?”

“Yes.”

“He said the pressure was off... right?”

“That’s what he told me.” Brown stared directly at Perry, his vicious eyes probing.

“You believed him?”

“I had no reason not to,” Perry said, aware his mouth was turning dry.

Brown nodded. “Around Miami... right?”

“The pressure’s on around Miami. So the Sheriff told me.”

“No pressure here, huh?”

Perry thought of the cop up in the tree, watching the lodge. He dragged on his cigarette and slowly released the smoke. “That’s what the Sheriff said.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you, Perry?”

“I only know what he told me.”

“He wouldn’t lie to you, would he, Perry?”

Perry felt sweat trickling down his spine. “We’re good friends, Jim. There’s no reason for him to lie to me.”

“Although we ain’t good friends, Perry, you wouldn’t lie to me either?”

At this moment the telephone bell rang. Brown stiffened. Automatically the gun jumped into his hand.

“Answer it, but be careful. No tricks.”

Perry got to his feet and lifted the receiver. “Is that Perry?” A man’s voice said.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Gene Franklin. I’ve been trying to contact you. Your phone was out of order. How are you?”

Perry drew in a deep breath. Keeping his voice steady, he said, “I’m fine.” He was aware of Brown pointing a gun at him. “Long time no see. How are you?”