He didn’t think it would get very far, going like that, with the rails probably spread here and there and debris on the tracks.
He walked along in front of the fire-illumined building, waded, rather, in deep glass that was slippery. All the street trees had been knocked over in neat rows pointing the same way.
He stopped.
It wasn’t a liquor store.
It was a jewelry store.
The big window was just a glass jaw, like a shark’s, that a man could step through. The glass counters were conveniently shattered. Inside, things glittered in the firelight, brighter than glass, and different colors.
Beau said dazedly, rather happily, “Well!”
He went in and picked up a bracelet and then a necklace.
“Well, well!” he murmured. He commenced to stuff his pockets, humming. He hummed,
“Happy days are here again….”