Dillon said, “Much there?”
Myra nodded. “It’s worth while.” She went through the two drawers and then slammed them to. “Maybe they’ve got a can round here.”
Dillon said, “Where’s the safe?”
Hank nodded miserably. “It’s behind the desk,” he said.
“Okay, get it open.”
George unlocked the battered safe, and Myra walked over and peered inside. She scooped up a small wad of notes, pulled two or three ledgers out of the way, and glanced behind them. She straightened up. “That’s the lot,” she said.
Dillon went round to the telephone and jerked it away from its cable. “I don’t want you boys to start yellin’ just yet. We wantta get home safe, see?” He was feeling mighty pleased.
Myra looked them over. “I guess this is your first stick-up?” she said.
George mumbled, “Sure.”
“You’re havin’ the breaks.” She took a cigarette from her handbag and paused to light it. “You’re in swell company. Know who this is?” She jerked her head towards Dillon. “I bet you don’t. That guy set fire to the middle west. He’s the original twenty-five-minute egg. There’ll come a time when you’ll tell your grand-kids how you were stuck up by this guy. I sure envy you boys; you gotta story to blow.”