“Maybe there’s things in it, but anyway it’s not alive with them. Now let’s have that drink.”
I unscrewed the flask and passed it to her while Reno went out to hide the car. When she had finished, I took a shot.
The purr of the Marmon’s engine got fainter. I opened the door and looked out. Downhill, through trees and bushes, I could see broken chunks of white light going away. When I lost them for good I returned indoors and asked the girl:
“Have you ever had to walk home before?”
“What?”
“Reno’s gone with the car.”
“The lousy tramp! Thank God he left us where there’s a bed, anyway.”
“That’ll get you nothing.”
“No?”
“No. Reno had a key to this dump. Ten to one the birds after him know about it. That’s why he ditched us here. We’re supposed to argue with them, hold them off his trail a while.”
She got up wearily from the cot, cursed Reno, me, all men from Adam on, and said disagreeably:
“You know everything. What do we do next?”
“We find a comfortable spot in the great open spaces, not too far away, and wait to see what happens.”
“I’m going to take the blankets.”