“You don’t know? Come on now, tell me where yuh got him.”
“Don’ know.”
“She sure is a good witness,” observed Silent. “When her kind don’t want to talk, they can sure ruin the perade. Ask her why Santel killed Mostano?”
“She don’t know that either.”
“Don’ know,” she muttered blankly. “My man dead—shot.”
“Well, that’s one thing she does know.” Silent was inclined to sarcasm.
Little Whizzer Malloy whimpered and looked at Brick, as if trying to remember who Brick was.
“Don’tcha know me, Whizzer?” he asked.
But the child only looked blankly at him. Brick noticed that the little fellow had a bad bruise on the right side of his head and his right arm was painfully bruised.
“What the was that hole over there?” Silent pointed back toward the brush patch.