He swiveled his head and called, “Hey!”
W-J turned. Skinny commanded him, “Pin her up! Don’t hurt her.”
W-J reached for her. But, as he did so, all of a sudden she was neither man nor woman, but a cyclone. Her first leap, away from his reaching hand, was side-wise, and by the time he had realized he didn’t have her she had got to the table and grabbed the gun. He made for her and she pulled the trigger and down he went, tumbling right at her feet. By that time Skinny was almost to her and she whirled and blazed away again. He kept going, and from the force of the blow on my left shoulder I might have calculated, if I had been in a mood for calculating, that the bullet had not gone through Skinny before it hit me. She pulled the trigger a third time, but by then Skinny had her wrist and was breaking her arm.
“She got me!” W-J was yelling indignantly. “She got me in the leg!”
Skinny had her down on her knees.
“Come and cut me loose,” I called to him, “and give me that gun, and go find a phone.”
Except for my wrists and ankles and shoulder and head, I felt fine all over.
X
“I hope you’re satisfied,” Inspector Cramer said sourly. “You and Goodwin have got your pictures in the paper again. You got no fee, but a lot of free publicity. I got my nose wiped.”
Wolfe grunted comfortably.