Gurney nodded. “Sure,” he said, “I guess she’ll be that.”
There was a long pause, both men remaining still, their eyes away from Butch. Then Gurney said, “Where we goin’?”
“Over the State line quick,” Dillon said. “We’ll see when we get there after that.”
Myra came in, holding a small leather case.
Gurney said, “Go out an’ get into the car.”
She turned on her heel and went out.
Dillon went over to Gurney. “We gotta have a little dough before we start,” he said. “Maybe you know Abe’s got a wad salted away. We’re goin’ to lift that. I know where it is.”
Gurney licked his lips. “It ain’t safe,” he said nervously. “The sheriff’ll be along pretty soon.”
Dillon said, “I’m tellin’ you… not askin’ you.”
They went out into the darkness, climbing into the old car. Myra was sitting at the back. She was holding on to her nerves, but she couldn’t stop herself shivering. The car lurched on to the main road, and the gears grated as Gurney changed up.