“You didn’t think I was in with the kid?” he said softly.
“Kid?” Dillon sneered. “She ain’t no kid… she’s a woman.”
Roxy stretched out a hand and took Dillon’s coat front. “Lay off that, Dillon,” he said. “By God! Don’t you start anythin’ with that girl. She’s good an’ she’s simple…. I won’t stand for it.”
An overwhelming rage mounted inside Dillon. He flung Roxy’s hand away. “Listen, you louse,” he said. “You do as I tell you…. If I want that broad, I’m havin’ her—get it? You ain’t stoppin’ me, or any goddam heel like you.”
Roxy stood very still. “If that’s the way you feel…” he said.
Dillon couldn’t quite see his face in the light, but he didn’t like the threat in Roxy’s voice.
He suddenly saw the danger of making an enemy of Roxy and he retreated hastily. “Forget it, will you?” he said surlily. “I guess the heat’s worryin’ me. I guess I was crazy.”
“Sure.” Roxy’s voice was relieved. “I know how it is. This place gives me the jitters. Suppose we take the heap and get into town?”
Dillon nodded. “We’ll take the Thompson. I guess they won’t be lookin’ for us to drive in.” He was eager to get away. “An’ say, I guess we can check up on that punk Joe. Maybe we’ll hear somethin’.”
Roxy said, “Let’s go…. We won’t tell the old woman.”