He could not move; he just watched, as they ate his car. I hit him as hard as I couldon the side of the head, but he rolled with it, and then he dug his hand into my mouth, catching the softflesh of my check, and he literally pried my head back. “Are you all right?” “Yes, yes, I’m fine, can you come and get me?” “Sure. “Doctor, my life is like everyone else’s life.
Theremains of the building gave up evidence that the job had been done with homemade Molotov cocktailsand sticks of dynamite stolen from the road construction shed on the highway. They werecloser to the slot-players in temperament, but they knew the slots were a dodge to keep the old ladiesbusy, while the players worked toward their endless twenty-ones. The others scampered. Maybe mutts smelled our track.
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