Saturday, December 5, 2009

You will kindly have a word with one of these friends of M. le Marquis' and arrange for nine o'clock to-morrow as usual. " "Not.

Came down on the wounded leg. It was bleeding freely. And why not? he thought grimly. It's not everybody who gets hit point-blank with a bazooka shell and lives to tell about it. So Mom was his number-one idea girl was she? She was all that and a bit more. He shook a pillowcase free of the tick and ripped it into a bandage for his leg then took his shaving mirror.
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' 'You keep that pistol handy ' Bertie said. 'Yes I think I will. ' And with that we started to trundle up Curve Street. The apartment house where Richie Grenadine had his flat was almost at the top of the hill one of those big Victorian monsters that were built by the pulp an' paper barons at the turn of the century. They've just about all been turned into apartment houses now. When Bertie got his breath he told us Richie lived on the third floor under that top gable that jutted out like an eyebrow. I took the chance to ask Henry what happened to the kid after that. Along about the third week in November the kid came back one afternoon to find Richie had gone one further than just pulling the shades down. He'd taken and nailed blankets across every window in the place. It was starting to stink worse too -.
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