Dillon took his hand away and, glanced at Roxy, who nodded at him. “Sure,” Roxy said, “it’s a good place.”
“We want another car,” Dillon said.
Joe said, “I’ll sell you mine. It’s old, but, by heck, it goes all right!”
Dillon turned his back so that Joe couldn’t see the size of his roll. He pulled off some bills and put the rest in his pocket.
“I’ll give you twelve hundred bucks. That’s for the car an’ two weeks’ rent.”
Joe took the money and counted it carefully. He couldn’t keep the pleasure off his face. He just gloated at the sight of so much dough.
Dillon walked over to him. His face was hard. “Listen, bozo,” he said. “Get the car an’ get some drink on board. I want a pile of grub too. That comes outta the dough I’ve just slipped you.”
Joe looked at him and cringed a little. “Sure,” he said; “I’m glad to help you folks.”
When he had gone out, Dillon said to Roxy, “You think you’re smart? Pushin’ me on to a chiseler like that.”
Roxy didn’t say anything. He just shrugged. They stood there waiting.