84
JASCHA KESSLER
"Yessir what?"
"Yes sir,
Mr.
Gruber."
What did he think it was still, the Army? Acker felt again the
pang of humiliation low in his belly that he had answered like some
punk busboy draftee. What right did Gruber have to make him
grovel just because he had employed
him
out of all the others, what
right? Acker leaned back against the wall to support himself in this
thought of his misfortune and sorrow, and got a jolt of surprise. The
wall rattled: it was hollow. He stooped and peered into the obscur–
ity of the angle in which he had been hiding. There was a snaplock
there. He pulled, and a door opened. It was a dumbwaiter. What
the hell! They must have given room service here once, even in this
lousy building. Room service! In Long Beach! Hey hey! He stuck
his head inside and peered up into the dark for an instant, until he
realized that the ropes were quivering and moving, slowly and
quietly and quite as
if
well-greased. He pulled back, startled, and
waited. Sure enough, the next minute the dumbwaiter came (In
down, empty, and slid past
him
like an apparition. His jaw fell
open; but why he was so amazed he could not at that instant have
thought. He looked in again. It had stopped just below. Nothing
happened.
What .
..
is
...
this?
he murmured, and immediately
resolved to find out. Straightening
his
back, drawing a sharp breath,
he stepped out and walked resolutely through the kitchen, looking
neither to right nor left, and marched out the screen door at the
back and down the dirty wood steps where one of the colored ele–
vator boys leaned jacketless in the quiet, smoking a cigarette and
contemplating half a bottle of beer. Acker went along the sandy
alley until he came to the basement entrance, where he glanced
about to see if he had been noticed by anyone. So far, so good.
As
he proceeded down the low-ceilinged, mildew-ish basement
he struggled to compose himself. Remember, he warned himself,
you don't know what you're looking for, and besides there may be
nothing to find; but
if
you do,
be
calm,
be
logical, be sane. Now, to
think a little, for instance, where would that dumbwaiter come
down? He walked more slowly, and attempted to visualize the lay–
out of the floor above. He turned left following the corridor beneath
the lobby now-yes, there were the rickety stairs that continued
down from the "Grand Staircase"-and left again, past the furnace
