bring you out some food.”
“Sure,” Thoms said.
“And you know what to do if you hear any trouble.”
“I know,” Thoms said.
“I don’t think Mallory will be foolish enough now to risk exposing Mrs. Lawton. But I don’t take risks. Not even small ones.”
He nodded at Mallory and started toward the café. Mallory followed him toward the entrance.
Graef said, “I’ve seen your type before, Mallory. You’re quixotic. Try to remember that you’ll be tilting at more than windmills if you attempt an attack now.”
“I’ll remember,” Mallory said wearily.
He followed Graef into the café. A horseshoe shaped counter occupied the middle of a large room. Booths lined one wall. The other had a counter displaying fishing and hunting gear. At the rear was a selection of groceries. A single waitress seemed to be working the horseshoe and the booths. There were only two customers. One looked like a truckdriver. The other wore a state patrolman’s uniform. The face under the billed cap struck a chord of recognition in Mallory’s mind. Both customers were at the counter.
“We’ll take the first booth,” Graef said. He gave no sign that the patrolman’s presence concerned him. He picked a newspaper off a rack as he passed it.
Mallory sat facing the front door. Graef placed himself opposite, so that he could watch the café and the store. He slipped out the inside section of the paper and passed the remainder to Mallory.
“Go ahead and read about it,” Graef said.
Mallory let the paper lie folded by his elbow. He said, “Just what do you want with Mrs. Lawton and me, Graef?”
“Didn’t I tell you?” Graef said with soft mockery. “We’re going camping—all five of us. But Nick and I are city boys out of the Middle West. We don’t know anything about your kind of country. So we need a guide. If you want to know why, read that newspaper I gave you.”
Mallory opened the paper. He started to glance down and stopped. He was suddenly aware of the patrolman’s interest in them. The man had swiveled on his stool and was staring at their booth.
“Know him?” Graef asked.
Mallory looked back at the patrolman and remembered. He said, “We met last fall, hunting season.”
“Then act like it.” Graef rustled his paper. “I have the gun at my side, Mallory. If there’s any trouble, I’ll shoot the cop first. You wouldn’t want an innocent man shot, would you?”
Mallory made his mouth twist in a smile as he looked at the patrolman. To Graef, he said quietly, “Forget the dramatics. I told you I wouldn’t cut up.”
“Just keep remembering that you told me,” Graef said.
The patrolman slid off his stool. He came toward the booth. He stopped about a foot away. Mallory felt as if his smile had frozen on his face.
The patrolman said, “Aren’t you Mallory?”
“That’s right,” Mallory agreed. “You’re Griffin?”
The patrolman’s expression eased. Mallory said, “Join us?”
“I’ve got to get back on the road.” He was looking inquiringly at Graef, but he spoke to Mallory, “You must like it up here.”
“Well enough to bring my friends,” Mallory said. He glanced at Graef. “This is the officer who saved me a twenty-mile hike last fall. The one who helped me pack the buck deer out when my wagon broke down.”
“I remember your telling me about that,” Graef said. “I hope the wagon’s in better shape now. I’m not up to a twenty-mile hike.”
The patrolman said, “It better be. I haven’t time to haul him out this year.” He dropped a thick finger onto the paper lying face up in front of Mallory. “We’re all alerted on that. Something isn’t is?”
It was like a well rehearsed play, Mallory thought. Everyone delivered his lines without a bobble. He felt the dryness in the back of his mouth and throat. He hoped he didn’t forget his part. There was no prompter standing in the wings; there was only Graef—and his gun.
Mallory let his eyes drop to the
“Sure,” Thoms said.
“And you know what to do if you hear any trouble.”
“I know,” Thoms said.
“I don’t think Mallory will be foolish enough now to risk exposing Mrs. Lawton. But I don’t take risks. Not even small ones.”
He nodded at Mallory and started toward the café. Mallory followed him toward the entrance.
Graef said, “I’ve seen your type before, Mallory. You’re quixotic. Try to remember that you’ll be tilting at more than windmills if you attempt an attack now.”
“I’ll remember,” Mallory said wearily.
He followed Graef into the café. A horseshoe shaped counter occupied the middle of a large room. Booths lined one wall. The other had a counter displaying fishing and hunting gear. At the rear was a selection of groceries. A single waitress seemed to be working the horseshoe and the booths. There were only two customers. One looked like a truckdriver. The other wore a state patrolman’s uniform. The face under the billed cap struck a chord of recognition in Mallory’s mind. Both customers were at the counter.
“We’ll take the first booth,” Graef said. He gave no sign that the patrolman’s presence concerned him. He picked a newspaper off a rack as he passed it.
Mallory sat facing the front door. Graef placed himself opposite, so that he could watch the café and the store. He slipped out the inside section of the paper and passed the remainder to Mallory.
“Go ahead and read about it,” Graef said.
Mallory let the paper lie folded by his elbow. He said, “Just what do you want with Mrs. Lawton and me, Graef?”
“Didn’t I tell you?” Graef said with soft mockery. “We’re going camping—all five of us. But Nick and I are city boys out of the Middle West. We don’t know anything about your kind of country. So we need a guide. If you want to know why, read that newspaper I gave you.”
Mallory opened the paper. He started to glance down and stopped. He was suddenly aware of the patrolman’s interest in them. The man had swiveled on his stool and was staring at their booth.
“Know him?” Graef asked.
Mallory looked back at the patrolman and remembered. He said, “We met last fall, hunting season.”
“Then act like it.” Graef rustled his paper. “I have the gun at my side, Mallory. If there’s any trouble, I’ll shoot the cop first. You wouldn’t want an innocent man shot, would you?”
Mallory made his mouth twist in a smile as he looked at the patrolman. To Graef, he said quietly, “Forget the dramatics. I told you I wouldn’t cut up.”
“Just keep remembering that you told me,” Graef said.
The patrolman slid off his stool. He came toward the booth. He stopped about a foot away. Mallory felt as if his smile had frozen on his face.
The patrolman said, “Aren’t you Mallory?”
“That’s right,” Mallory agreed. “You’re Griffin?”
The patrolman’s expression eased. Mallory said, “Join us?”
“I’ve got to get back on the road.” He was looking inquiringly at Graef, but he spoke to Mallory, “You must like it up here.”
“Well enough to bring my friends,” Mallory said. He glanced at Graef. “This is the officer who saved me a twenty-mile hike last fall. The one who helped me pack the buck deer out when my wagon broke down.”
“I remember your telling me about that,” Graef said. “I hope the wagon’s in better shape now. I’m not up to a twenty-mile hike.”
The patrolman said, “It better be. I haven’t time to haul him out this year.” He dropped a thick finger onto the paper lying face up in front of Mallory. “We’re all alerted on that. Something isn’t is?”
It was like a well rehearsed play, Mallory thought. Everyone delivered his lines without a bobble. He felt the dryness in the back of his mouth and throat. He hoped he didn’t forget his part. There was no prompter standing in the wings; there was only Graef—and his gun.
Mallory let his eyes drop to the
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