“Hello,” he said, grinning.
I glanced up and down the wharf.
“Hello,” I said.
“They came down here a couple of hours back, but I kept out of sight. The old woman told them I’d gone on a trip. That took care of the boat. They didn’t find your heep, and they shoved off after nosing around. There were a lot of them.”
I nodded. “Thanks,” I said.
He hitched up his dirty grey flannels.
“What now?” he said.
“I’ve got a little business in town. How’s the heat?”
He whistled. “Fierce,” he said, “but their description of you is punk. They’re calling you handsome.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m going in.”