“There’s more’n that in the can,” George said. “We had a few odd bills settled today.”
“You think it out. I guess a joint like this would be mighty nice to own.”
George nodded. “You’re right,” he said.
Outside, a car pulled up. The two jumped to their feet and ran out. The big shabby Packard was parked near the gas-pumps.
Dillon got out. “Any more of you guys inside?” he asked.
The two looked at him in surprise. “Just the two of us,” George said. “We’ll take care of the bus all right.”
Dillon raised his hands a little. He was holding the two guns. “Grab some air,” he said viciously, “and get inside.”
The two attendants raised their hands. George went a little wobbly at the knees. He said, “Don’t let that gun off, mister.”
“Get inside!” Dillon snapped. “Jump to it!” He backed them into the office. “Stand over there by the wall, and keep your traps shut.”
Myra came in and went over to the register. She rang it open and began scooping the money into a small bag. “Watch closely, boys,” she said. “You’re seein’ history bein’ made.”