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PARTISAN REVIEW
even look at it. They'd say right away, it's stolen goods or spoiled
meat."
He thought complacently of his hat with the rolled brim and
his closefitting overcoat.
"I could maybe get away with it, but I'll tell you one thing.
If
I had wanted to pull off a trick like that, I would not have gone
looking for you. And if I should take a notion to do it now, I would
begin by getting rid of you."
"I beg your pardon, I'm right here, I'm in on the deal."
.'Remember, I'm only saying
if,"
Martin pointed out. "But
if
you should want to get up a row with me, I wouldn't hesitate to
correct you."
"Maybe you've taken it into your head that I have only one
arm?"
"I would begin by laying you out cold, young man. Just get
the notion of playing the big shot out of your head for good, young
man."
The conversation rested there for an instant. The ram did not
offer so much as a sneer, and fell into step with his companion. The
latter could easily believe that he had brought him to terms. He
remained on
his
guard none the less, slow to admit that this bold
fellow would yield at the first threat. The moon was still hidden, but
the night had grown lighter. Blending with the background, the per–
spective of the street and the crossings showed vaguely, and each man
could now see the other's outlines. They were keeping step, walking
one behind the other. Suddenly, Martin sensed a break in the rhythm.
Turning his head, he saw his associate cross the street and walk
toward the line of blue light that framed the doorway of a cafe.
"I'm going to get a shot of liquor," remarked the calm voice
of the ram.
He was already opening the door, and pushing his valises inside.
Martin had not time to say anything and hardly time for reflection.
He stood for a moment noting the silence of the street, and then he
joined Grandgil in the doorway. Embarrassed by the valises, they
moved awkwardly, and were forced to pull to one side for an appre–
ciable time the protecting black curtain which masked the lighted
interior. Behind them, while they were making a passage for them–
selves, streams of light flowed clear to the middle of the street. Anxious
