The woman opened her bag and took out a cigarette. She said shakily: “I guess so.” She pulled out the dashboard lighter, waited until it glowed red and held it to her cigarette.
The younger man was inspecting the back of the car. He said: “They punctured the tank. It’s a good thing you stopped — you couldn’t have gone much farther.”
“Yes — I guess it’s a very good thing I stopped,” she said, mechanically. She took a deep drag of her cigarette.
The other man said: “That’s the third hold-up out here this week.”
The woman spoke to the younger man. “Can you get me a cab?”
He said: “Sure.” Then he knelt beside the blown-out tire, said: “Look, Ed — they almost cut it in two.”
The man in the doorway called to her: “You want a cab, lady?”
She smiled, nodded, and the man disappeared into the gas station; he came back to the doorway in a minute, over to the car. “There’ll be a cab here in a little while, lady,” he said.
She thanked him.
“This is one of the worst stretches of road on Long Island — for highwaymen.” He leaned on the door of the car. “Did they try to nudge you off the road — or did they just start shooting?”