"Has it? You used to work farther down the Road, didn't you?"

"Yes. But I like it better up here."

"I'm glad you found a good spot. Say, that guy's chicken looks good." Red nodded toward the darkhaired man. "So does his beer. I'll have the same. Who is he, anyway?"

"Never saw him before."

"All right. Bring the beer now."

"Okay."

He withdrew a fresh cigar from a concealed pocket, examined it.

Johnson paused, regarding him.

"Are you going to do the trick?"

"What trick?"

"I once saw you light your cigar with a coal you plucked from the fire. You weren't burned."

"Go on!"

"Don't you remember? It was some years ago... Unless you are going to learn it later. You did look older then. Anyway, it was about half a C down the Road."

Red shook his head.

"Some childish trick. I'll none of it now. Let's have the brew and the bird."

Johnson nodded and departed.

By the time Red had finished eating, the dining room had filled. Lights had been lit and the background noise had grown louder. He hailed Johnson, paid his tab and rose.

Outside, the night had become colder. He stepped down into the lot and turned left, heading toward his truck.

"Quiet," came the small word from the book he bore.

"Yes. I-'

The impact staggered him just as he saw the flash from the muzzle and heard the weapon's report.

Not pausing to assess the damage, he threw himself

to the side, his right arm whipping across his body. There came a second shot, but he felt nothing. With a snapping movement, he hurled Flowers of Evil at the shadowy gunman, then broke, into a run toward his vehicle.

He tore around the front of the truck to the passenger side, pulled the door open, and threw himself flat within. As he groped beneath the seat for the .45 he kept there, he heard footfalls on the gravel on the other side. A voice from a greater distance on that side called out, "Hold it, mithter! You're covered!" There followed a gunshot and a soft curse, just as his fingers wrapped around the butt of the heavy revolver. He fired once, up and out through the window on the driver's side— a moment's insurance. Then he backed out and crouched.