The tall boy's face changed. "What?"
"You heard me. You hand over that gun, I'll give you two hundred dollars."
His eyes narrowed. "Then what? I suppose you'd shoot me and take off. Uh-uh, pal."
"You can check the gun downstairs, and sell me the key."
"Okay," Shock said slowly. "But if you're pullin' something—" He balled his hands menacingly.
They went down to the lower level together. Shock bought himself a public locker, and shoved the gun inside. Then he held up the key.
"Here it is, pal. Two hundred bucks worth."
Ron handed him the money. Shock whistled at the sight of the bills.
"Now," Ron said. "Would you like to make a hundred more?"
He looked at Ron with respect. "Okay. What's the pitch?"