She climbed to her feet. “You gotta catch me at it,” she thought.
“Okay, go an’ get somethin’ to eat. You get the idea now, huh?”
She turned to the door, but he reached out and jerked her back. “You get it?” “Oh, sure!” she said impatiently.
Butch tapped the broad belt round his waist. “If ever I catch you in a tumble, I’m goin’ to lift the hide off your back.”
She snatched her arm away and walked out of the room, her knees trembling a little.
Outside, a ramshackle car drew up, and three men got out. Myra sped to the door, looked out, then ran to her bedroom. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and a little smile flickered on her lips. Gurney was coming in, with his ham boxer. Gurney made Myra’s heart flutter. He was some guy, this Gurney.
Sankey the boxer walked up the broken path, his head on his chest, his big hands hanging loosely by his side. Hank, his trainer, watched him anxiously. He caught Gurney’s eye, and jerked his head. He looked worried. Gurney was looking for Myra. Sankey gave him a pain.
The three of them paused on the verandah. Butch came out of the room. He said, “You ain’t been around here for some time. How’re you makin’ out?”
Gurney made signs to the other two Sankey took no notice, but Hank nodded briefly.
Butch was glad to have them. He said, “Sit down, for Pete’s sake. How’s your boy shapin’?”