We stopped.
“It’s okay,” I gasped. “I’ve got a permit to leave. Lemme get this coffin on board and I’ll give it to you.”
He hesitated, and I went on past him into the courtyard, where the hearse was waiting. He followed us.
Maxison and I shoved the coffin into the hearse, slammed the door.
The guard still threatened us with his gun. His round, red face was puzzled.
“Flaggerty said no one was to leave,” he grumbled. “You can’t go, so don’t you think you can.”
“I tell you Flaggerty’s given us a permit,” I said angrily. “Give it to him,” I went on to Maxison. “You got it in your pocket.”
With a dazed expression on his face, Maxison put his hand in his inside pocket. The guard swung the gun away from me, covering Maxison, suspicion in his eyes.
I jumped, hit the guard on the jaw, snatched his rifle from him as he fell. I belted him over the head with the butt.
“Come on,” I said to Maxison, and bundled him into the hearse. I drove across the courtyard, through the first gate which was open, and stopped outside the outer gate which was closed.