Thaler was watching me with a hard small smile in eyes and mouth. Reno was all dull stolidity. Elihu Willsson was leaning toward me, his old eyes sharp and wary. I don’t know what Noonan was doing. I couldn’t afford to look at him. I was in a good spot if I played my hand right, and in a terrible one if I didn’t.

“The men, they get paid for taking chances,” Pete the Finn said. “For the other, twenty-five grand will make it right.”

Noonan spoke quickly, eagerly:

“All right, Pete, all right, I’ll give it to you.”

I pushed my lips together to keep from laughing at the panic in his voice.

I could look at him safely now. He was licked, broken, willing to do anything to save his fat neck, or to try to. I looked at him.