“That’s one way of finding out, I suppose. Yes, he did tell me to keep away from here.”
“And that night you got shot.”
“Gee! Do you think he shot me?”
Hashknife smiled softly over the manufacture of another cigaret, but did not answer.
“What do you think I ought to do?” queried Jimmy.
“Just forget it,” replied Hashknife. “You don’t know anything about it, Jimmy.”
“I know, but—” Jimmy hesitated awkwardly. “But he—whoever fired that shot—wanted to kill me, didn’t they? Don’t you suppose they’ll try again?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Gee, that puts me in a fine position!”
“Yea-a-ah, it does. You ought to grab a train and high-tail it out of this country.”