For a long time nothing was said. Johnny’s head hurt. It also ached in a most extraordinary manner. He felt sick at the stomach. Life for him had gone suddenly very strange.
“Drew,” he said at last, “that man, whoever he was, didn’t give me a chance, not a single fighting chance.”
“Of course not. They never do, those gangsters.”
“Drew,” said Johnny, “I was hunting in the Arctic once, stalking a polar bear all alone; following his track. He turned the tables and started stalking me. But, Drew, before he struck at me with that great paw of his, he hissed like a goose.”
“Gave you a warning,” Drew said quietly. “Rattlesnake’d do that, too; but not a gangster.
“Johnny,” he said, suddenly wheeling about, “you’ve been believing in that old saw, ‘honor among thieves.’ Forget it. There isn’t any. Not a bit.
“I’ve known them to run over a little family car, smash it in bits with a powerful truck they were using to carry illicit goods. Did they stop? Not much. Fired shots in the air, and left little children to perish in the wreckage. Honor! Not a bit. I tell you it’s war! Pitiless war waged by monsters. And this land will not be free until they are all safely lodged in jail.”
Again for a time there was silence.
“Drew,” Johnny spoke again, “I used to say that if a man picked my pockets or held me up and got my money, I’d say, ‘You are a smart guy,’ and let it go at that, but that if he hit me on the head I’d spend the rest of my life hunting him. And when I found him I’d kill him. That man hit me, Drew, hit almost hard enough to kill, and without warning!”
“He did,” said Drew, “and we are going to get him, you and I. But after we get him, I guess we’d better let the courts deal with him. Justice, Johnny, is an arrow, a keen pointed arrow that goes straight and fair. Sometimes I think it is an arrow of fire that burns as it strikes.”