“Where are you going, kid?”

“I’d like to stay with you people, but if you are going to split out, I’ll go to San Francisco for a while.”

“You can go with me,” cut in Sanc. “I’m going to San Francisco for the winter. No New Hampshire winter for me.”

I think the two of them were looking forward to a few months of quiet, peace, and maybe dissipation. My thoughts were running ahead to future burglaries. No thought of going home, even when Johnnie was telling of his home life. When I was hiding in the empty house covered with Smiler’s blood, I wanted to go home, because I was in a tough hole. Now I was safe, independent, the life fascinated me. No thought of home now.

“What shall I do with the balance of the dynamite and drills?” I asked. “Somebody might step on the bundle and blow the house down. It’s planted out in the back.”