“He couldn’t do that,” Quell said, dropping the strait jacket. “That chain is specially made.”
He moved closer and looked down at Hopper. “I’d better give him a shot.”
“Don’t be a fool,” I said sharply. “Bland said you weren’t to go near him.”
“Oh, but he must have an injection.” Quell said. “If he has another attack it might be very bad for him. I don’t want to do it, but it’s my duty.”
“To hell with your duty,” I said impatiently. “Handling that guy is like handling a bomb. Leave him alone.”
Cautiously Quell approached the bed and stood looking down at Hopper. The heavy, snoring breathing continued, and, reassured, Quell began to put the sheet back in place. I watched him, holding my breath, not knowing if Hopper was faking or not. I didn’t know if Quell was just dumb or very brave. He’d have to be completely dumb or have nerves like steel to get as close to this lunatic as he was.
Quell tucked in the sheet and stood away. I saw little beads of sweat on his forehead. He wasn’t dumb, I decided. That made him brave. If I had one, I would have given him a medal.
“He seems all right,” he said more cheerfully. “I’ll give him a shot. If he has a good sleep he’ll be all right tomorrow.”
This suited me, but, for all that, I was worried. No amount of medals nor money would have persuaded me to get that close to the sleeping Hopper.
“You’re taking a chance,” I said. “The needle will wake him. If he gets his hands on you, you’re a goner.”