“You’re getting nervous and twisted, Rivers.”
The two sat down by the paper-strewn table.
“Well, who wouldn’t?” snapped Rivers. “Hiding in this junk, knowing that your wife–––” he paused abruptly, but Maclin nodded sympathetically. “It’s hell, Maclin.”
“Sure! Got anything to drink?”
Larry went to the closet and brought out a bottle and glasses.
“This helps!” Maclin said, pouring out the best brand from the Cosey.
The men drained their glasses and became, after a few minutes, more cheerful. Maclin stretched out his legs––he had to do this in order to adjust his fat and put his hands in his pockets.
“Larry, I want to tell you that you won’t have to hide in your hole much longer. I’m one too many for that fellow Northrup. I hold the cards now.”
“The devil you do!” Rivers’s eyes brightened.
“Yes, sir. He wants the Point, old man, and the Heathcotes gave him the knowledge that your wife owns it. He’s getting her where he can handle her. Damn shame, I say––using a woman and taking advantage of her weak side. If we don’t act spry he’ll get what he wants.”