John Hobb said to his wife, as he read the morning newspaper. “You won’t believe this. I can’t believe this! What’s wrong with that baboon?” John slapped his hand down hard on the table.
“ What’s wrong, John?” Maye frowned at him while pouring two cups of coffee.
“ They really are getting out. I thought it was only talk. Even though they were sentenced to twenty years, after only serving three months , they’re getting out,” he said in disbelief. “Says here they were granted full and free pardons by Governor Shelby who, quote, ‘concluded they were the victims of mistaken identity’ end of quote.”
“ I can't believe they never gave up the name of the third man. He's out there, scot-free,” Maye said, as she whipped together eggs and milk, preparing to make scrambled eggs.
“ Nope. Never did. Now there's three of them who are out free and clear. I didn’t tell you yet, but I hear tell there may even be a fourth man involved.”
“ Why didn’t you tell me?” Maye asked, propping her hands on her hips.
“ Because it may only be the rumor mill workin’ overtime.”
“ But you only saw three men in the bank that day.” Steam billowed and the skillet sizzled as she poured the egg mixture in.
“ Yes, but some people are saying maybe there was a fourth man waiting in the getaway car, or maybe someone helped them get the guns, or . . . well, you know how people talk. Probably nothing to it. But it doesn’t matter. They’re all getting off scot-free! It just isn’t right.”
* * *
When Brick Lynch got home from his three-month stint in prison he was bitter and full of resentment. His wife, Maisey, was sympathetic.
“ That John Hobb’s the kind a man who thinks the sun come up just ta hear ‘im crow,” Maisey grumbled.
“Maisey, if it weren’t for that do-gooder, I wouldna had to miss outta three months a my life,” he whined. “Not to mention having to live in that rat hole.”
“ I know, Brick darlin’, but you’re home now, try to put all that unpleasantness behind you.”
“ I cain’t. He shoulda kept his cotton-pickin’ blabbermouth shut. Me and Roddy are gonna have ta teach him a lesson in civility.” He stared coldly out at the trees rustling in the slight breeze.
* * *
The next day Rod Pierce and Brick Lynch met with a third man at Humdinger’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar on the outskirts of town. The man was wearing a fine suit, a silk tie, and wingtip shoes. He stuck out like a sore thumb. They sat down at a dark table at the back of the room, out of earshot of others.
“ Thanks for takin’ care 'a the governor for us. Three months in that joint seemed like twenty years,” Lynch said.
“ Keep it down! You want somebody to hear?” Sore Thumb asked.
Lynch snorted. “Ain’t nobody in here conscious enough ta hear.” He scanned the room. “Look at ol’ Slew Foot over thar. He’s three sheets to the wind.”
“ What’s Hobb know ‘bout the robbery?” Pierce asked the man, taking out a pack of cigarettes.
“ Not sure yet. I think he suspects there was a fourth party involved, but he’s keepin’ things purty close to the vest.”
“ He ain’t said nuthin’ yet. What makes you think he will?” Pierce lit his cigarette and offered the pack to each man.
“ Cause he’s Danny Do-gooder, that’s why. The world oughtta give him a medal for bein’ so dad-burned good.” Lynch struck a match with his thumbnail and lit his cigarette. “Nominate him for sainthood or somethin’.”
“ Whatta ya wontta do about ‘im, Brick?” Pierce took a deep drag on his cigarette.
“ Pardon or no pardon, he’s still a rat. I wontta give ‘im my own brand a medal,” Brick said, eyes dark with hatred.
“ Just simmer down,” Sore Thumb said. “We can’t go off half-cocked. We have to bide our time. If we do anything now, it’ll be obvious who did it. The man doesn’t have enemies. Except for you, Brick. Let some time go by. See
“ What’s wrong, John?” Maye frowned at him while pouring two cups of coffee.
“ They really are getting out. I thought it was only talk. Even though they were sentenced to twenty years, after only serving three months , they’re getting out,” he said in disbelief. “Says here they were granted full and free pardons by Governor Shelby who, quote, ‘concluded they were the victims of mistaken identity’ end of quote.”
“ I can't believe they never gave up the name of the third man. He's out there, scot-free,” Maye said, as she whipped together eggs and milk, preparing to make scrambled eggs.
“ Nope. Never did. Now there's three of them who are out free and clear. I didn’t tell you yet, but I hear tell there may even be a fourth man involved.”
“ Why didn’t you tell me?” Maye asked, propping her hands on her hips.
“ Because it may only be the rumor mill workin’ overtime.”
“ But you only saw three men in the bank that day.” Steam billowed and the skillet sizzled as she poured the egg mixture in.
“ Yes, but some people are saying maybe there was a fourth man waiting in the getaway car, or maybe someone helped them get the guns, or . . . well, you know how people talk. Probably nothing to it. But it doesn’t matter. They’re all getting off scot-free! It just isn’t right.”
* * *
When Brick Lynch got home from his three-month stint in prison he was bitter and full of resentment. His wife, Maisey, was sympathetic.
“ That John Hobb’s the kind a man who thinks the sun come up just ta hear ‘im crow,” Maisey grumbled.
“Maisey, if it weren’t for that do-gooder, I wouldna had to miss outta three months a my life,” he whined. “Not to mention having to live in that rat hole.”
“ I know, Brick darlin’, but you’re home now, try to put all that unpleasantness behind you.”
“ I cain’t. He shoulda kept his cotton-pickin’ blabbermouth shut. Me and Roddy are gonna have ta teach him a lesson in civility.” He stared coldly out at the trees rustling in the slight breeze.
* * *
The next day Rod Pierce and Brick Lynch met with a third man at Humdinger’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar on the outskirts of town. The man was wearing a fine suit, a silk tie, and wingtip shoes. He stuck out like a sore thumb. They sat down at a dark table at the back of the room, out of earshot of others.
“ Thanks for takin’ care 'a the governor for us. Three months in that joint seemed like twenty years,” Lynch said.
“ Keep it down! You want somebody to hear?” Sore Thumb asked.
Lynch snorted. “Ain’t nobody in here conscious enough ta hear.” He scanned the room. “Look at ol’ Slew Foot over thar. He’s three sheets to the wind.”
“ What’s Hobb know ‘bout the robbery?” Pierce asked the man, taking out a pack of cigarettes.
“ Not sure yet. I think he suspects there was a fourth party involved, but he’s keepin’ things purty close to the vest.”
“ He ain’t said nuthin’ yet. What makes you think he will?” Pierce lit his cigarette and offered the pack to each man.
“ Cause he’s Danny Do-gooder, that’s why. The world oughtta give him a medal for bein’ so dad-burned good.” Lynch struck a match with his thumbnail and lit his cigarette. “Nominate him for sainthood or somethin’.”
“ Whatta ya wontta do about ‘im, Brick?” Pierce took a deep drag on his cigarette.
“ Pardon or no pardon, he’s still a rat. I wontta give ‘im my own brand a medal,” Brick said, eyes dark with hatred.
“ Just simmer down,” Sore Thumb said. “We can’t go off half-cocked. We have to bide our time. If we do anything now, it’ll be obvious who did it. The man doesn’t have enemies. Except for you, Brick. Let some time go by. See
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