"They won't. Don't worry! They've been planning this crack for months, and you can bet everything's all set just right. They never get caught."
Linda sighed. It wasn't very promising.
"Tell me how you got into a gang like this?" she asked, suddenly.
"I fell for Slats," replied the other girl. "Thought he was a rich guy—he spent so much money on me. I was working as a clerk at an airport, and learning to fly. We ran off and got married."
"But when you discovered that he wasn't straight, why didn't you leave him?"
"Couldn't. He said he'd hunt me down, and 'bump me off,' if I did. And he meant it, too. Slats isn't afraid of anything.... I saw right away that he didn't want a wife, but a pilot, who'd do what he said.... The only fun I get out of it is in the winter, when we go to Europe or South America, and live like swells. Then he lets me spend all the money I want."
"But doesn't it make you feel dreadful—at night, sometimes, or when you're alone—to think of leading such a wicked life?"
"Now, Linda, be yourself!" answered Susie, flippantly. "No preaching! From you, or anybody else!"
Linda turned away and completed her task in silence. What was the use of talking to a person like that? She knew now what was meant by the term "hard-boiled." If ever a word described anyone, that word described Susie.
She wondered, as she worked, whether it would be worth-while to repeat her suggestion of the night before. Susie's ankle was so much better today that she would not be so eager to get to a real doctor. Still, there could be no harm in trying.