Dillon said, “Who was the guy?”
He knew, by just watching Gurney.
Morgan shrugged. “Butch can’t find out,” he said. “He figgered the strap would make her talk, but it didn’t. She kept her mouth shut. I guess it was a lucky break for that runaway. Butch would’ve twisted his neck for him.”
, Gurney mopped his face with a silk handkerchief. Dillon looked at him, but Gurney shifted his eyes.
Dillon said, “We’ll go back. They’ll be comin’ in soon.”
The hall was ablaze with light when they walked in. A buzz of talk hummed round the walls. The ring was empty. As they took their seats the lights began to dim.
The fat men behind them were talking in loud, hoarse voices. “There ain’t enough business goin’ on tonight,” one of them complained. “I’m layin’ three to one on Franks. The suckers ain’t taking me.”
Dillon turned his head. “I’ll take five hundred of that,” he said.
The two fat men looked at each other, a little startled. Then one of them said, “Sure,” but they stopped talking after that.
Gurney nudged Dillon, jerking his head. Beth Franks was coming down the aisle. She slipped into a vacant seat near one of the corners. Her face had a boney, scraped look, and her eyes glittered as if she had a fever.