IV

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IV

Vettori stared at Rico, who said nothing.

“Crazy! Crazy!” said Blackie. “I tell him, be a man, be a man. But he say, I got to, I got to.”

Rico hastily put on his overcoat.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” said Sam Vettori.

“Yeah,” said Rico, “that’s it. Now get yourself a can, Sam, and let’s go. We ain’t got any time to waste.”

Vettori rubbed both hands over his face.

“Not me,” he said.

Rico looked at him.

“Take Blackie,” said Vettori.

Blackie implored them with his eyes.

“Blackie’s no good,” said Rico.

“No,” said Blackie, “I no good.”

Carillo put his head in the door.

“Reilley’s downstairs, boss.”

“Take Carillo,” said Vettori.

Carillo stared at them suspiciously. Rico leapt across the room and grabbed him by the arm.

“Listen, Bat, can you drive a can?”

“Sure.”

“Will you let her out when I office you?”

“Sure.”

“All right, let’s go.”

“Take that black roadster, Carillo,” said Vettori, “but for God’s sake don’t smash it up.”

Carillo ran out leaving the door open. Rico walked over and closed the door, then he said:

“Sam, you ain’t got any more guts than Tony. Now listen, get down there and talk turkey to Reilley. Get that! By God, I guess I got to boss this job myself.”

Vettori looked at Rico with hatred. But he said:

“All right, Rico, you’re the boss now.”

Rico went out. Blackie said:

“Goodbye Tony!”

Carillo was waiting with the black roadster in the alleyway. Rico jumped in and the roadster leapt away. Carillo took a turn on two wheels.

“It’s a cinch he went the shortest cut,” said Rico.

“Sure,” said Carillo, “I know what I’m doing.”

“All right,” said Rico, “do it.”

The wind had risen and it began to snow, big, heavy flakes which sailed past the street lights. In a few minutes the ground was covered.

Carillo took the shortest cut and Rico, holding his big automatic on the seat beside him, sat straining his eyes. But there was no sign of Tony.

“If we miss him, I’ll kick hell out of Blackie,” said Rico.

“Keep your shirt on, boss,” said Carillo.

The tall spires of St. Dominick’s rose before them at the end of the block. The street was deserted. Carillo drove slowly now, hugging the curb. In a moment he pointed:

“There’s a guy.”

Rico leaned forward.

“Take it easy, Bat,” he said, “I think it’s Tony.”

“Tony,” called Rico.

“Yeah?” came Tony’s voice. “Who is it?”

Rico fired. A long spur of flame shot out in the darkness. Rico emptied his gun. Tony fell without a sound.

“All right now, Bat,” said Rico, “let her out.”