“I ain’t so tough,” the little guy said rather bitterly. “I oughtta’ve taken a chance and hung one on you.”
Hienie grinned. “You’re all right. You’re a wise guy. It ain’t healthy to tap a guy with a rod. Take it from me, pal, I know.” He fumbled for a cigarette and offered one.
When they had lit up, Hienie said, “What’s your name, pal?”
The little guy looked at him suspiciously. “Joe,” he said, with obvious reluctance.
Hienie grinned. “A swell name for a swell guy, huh?”
Joe didn’t say anything, he kept on driving. Hienie watched the road for a while, then he shut his eyes and dozed. It was hot inside the cab, so he let himself drift for a while. Then curiosity made him ask lazily, “Say, Joe, what’s wrong with the patient?”
“Aw, she’s nuts,” Joe said, leaning forward to switch on the side lights.
Hienie sat up. “You mean she’s crazy?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s tough. Gee! I’d hate to be a nut.”