“Whats the matter?” I demanded.
“Pal,” he said, “you kill me. Stranger in town, hey? You can’t go anyplace but here.”
“Why not?”
“Account of there ain’t anyplace else. See, the chief here don’t like competition. So we don’t have to worry about anybody taking their trade elsewhere, like—we burned all the other places down.”
That explained a couple of things. I counted out the money, loaded the stuff back in the wheelbarrow and headed for the Statler; but all the time I was counting and loading, I was talking to Big Brainless; and by the time I was actually on the way, I knew a little more about this “chief.”
And that was kind of important, because he was the man we were going to have to know very well.
II
I locked the door of the hotel room. Arthur was peeping out of the suitcase at me.
I said: “I’m back. I got your typewriter.” He waved his eye at me.
I took out the little kit of electricians’ tools I carried, tipped the typewriter on its back and began sorting out leads. I cut them free from the keyboard, soldered on a ground wire, and began taping the leads to the strands of a yard of forty-ply multiplex cable.