Rain beat against the windshield and drummed on the roof of the car. There was very little traffic on the highway, and Baird kept up a fast speed.
‘Get ing this guy Hater out of the swamp isn’t going to be a picnic,’ Baird went on, ‘but it can be done. I’ve fixed a boat. As soon as we get over the State line you’d better get Kile on the phone and let him know what we’re doing.’
‘If this doesn’t come off…’ Rico groaned.
‘It’s got to come off!’
‘Even if Kile pays us when we hand over Hater, how are we to get hold of the pay-off when Kile collects it? He’l probably get it at his house. What can we do if he does? We can’t show our faces in town. How shall we know when he does collect the dough?’
‘What makes you think we can’t go back there?’ Baird asked indifferently. ‘Olin wouldn’t scare me away from any town.’
Rico began to sweat.
‘We’l walk into a trap if we go back,’ he said, sit ing upright and staring hard at Baird.
‘If you want the dough you’l have to go back. There’s no other way of get ing it. That’s a risk we’ll have to run. When Kile takes delivery of Hater we can’t afford to let him out of our sight for a second!’
Rico groaned.