you’re a clergyman. You told me in that car, remember? You’re a preacher. So what, huh? That makes you God, maybe? You yak about it so much maybe that’s what you think?”
“I think nothing of the sort. I am merely of the Good Lord’s calling—”
“The Good Lord’s calling!” Billy said meanly. “He called you, did He? When did the call come in? Long distance, straight from Heaven? Person to person, maybe? You’re a nut is what you are! How about that, Reverend? You hear voices, huh?” Suddenly Billy’s tense look disappeared. “I’ll tell you something.” He smiled now, delighted with his train of thought. “I hear voices too.” He walked back to the stool and reseated himself, looking at the reverend all the while. “All the time! Only my calls come in from the other direction. Direct. Person to person. Guess from where?”
Reverend Andrews forced himself to stand there despite the paleness of his face. But he was silent.
“Sure,” Billy said happily. “A direct line to down under. Straight from the Devil himself, Reverend. Do you believe that?”
Reverend Andrews was silent for a moment, then very quietly, he said, “Yes, I do.”
Billy blinked, his eyes shifting just in time to see the faintest quirking at the corners of Sam Dickens’s mouth.
Swiftly Billy’s gun dropped in his lap, and his right hand lashed out, the flat of it cracking against Sam Dickens’s cheek. The movement was fast as lightning, and the blow had a surprising impact. It half turned Sam Dickens on his stool.
“Funny?” Billy snapped to the surprised Sam Dickens. “You think something’s funny, Dickens?”
Sam Dickens, his cheek flaming red where Billy’s hand had struck it, was silent for a moment. He shook his head. “No,” he said softly.
“Good.” Billy’s gun was back in his hand now. “That’s good. I thought you thought something was funny. I’ll let you know when something’s funny. All right, Dickens?”
Sam Dickens nodded faintly.
Billy’s tense look disappeared entirely. “Now sit up and drink your coffee.” He looked at Reverend Andrews still standing determinedly by the table. “You sit down, Reverend. I didn’t think you were a trouble-maker. Is that what preachers are for? To be trouble-makers? You just caused me to bust old Sam here in the face. What’s your Boss going to think of that? You better sit down, Reverend. You don’t want to be a trouble-maker, do you?”
Reverend Andrews licked his lips and slowly sat down.
Gloria Dickens, startled by the slap, but once again poised, said, “Why don’t you take a swing at me? Just for good measure.”
Billy grinned. “I’m afraid you might swing back, honey. Besides I wouldn’t want to hurt those pretty features of yours. You’re a doll, do you know that?”
“No kidding? I’d always thought I was real ugly.”
“Honey, you kill me.”
“Maybe I would if I had a chance.”
“You ain’t going to get a chance. Old Sam here ain’t going to help you get it anyway, is he, Gloria?”
“No,” Gloria said, glancing angrily at Sam, “I guess he’s not.”
“Then we’re all happy,” Billy said, looking toward the rear. “Where’s the breakfast, jelly roll?”
“Right away, right away!” Bob Saywell chattered. A moment later he scurried up with a large plate of eggs and bacon. He placed it obsequiously in front of Billy, then backed up and looked hopefully at the gunman, giving the impression of wringing his hands without actually doing it.
Billy placed his gun in his lap again and started eating ravenously. He paused suddenly, looking sideways at Bob Saywell, fork poised in air.
“Well, feed the rest of the animals, chunky. We’re all at the trough this morning!”
“Yes, sir!”
Bob Saywell had never given such service. He served the entire room in unbelievable time, then stood panting, waiting for Billy’s next desire.
Billy motioned with his gun. “What’s the matter with that
“I think nothing of the sort. I am merely of the Good Lord’s calling—”
“The Good Lord’s calling!” Billy said meanly. “He called you, did He? When did the call come in? Long distance, straight from Heaven? Person to person, maybe? You’re a nut is what you are! How about that, Reverend? You hear voices, huh?” Suddenly Billy’s tense look disappeared. “I’ll tell you something.” He smiled now, delighted with his train of thought. “I hear voices too.” He walked back to the stool and reseated himself, looking at the reverend all the while. “All the time! Only my calls come in from the other direction. Direct. Person to person. Guess from where?”
Reverend Andrews forced himself to stand there despite the paleness of his face. But he was silent.
“Sure,” Billy said happily. “A direct line to down under. Straight from the Devil himself, Reverend. Do you believe that?”
Reverend Andrews was silent for a moment, then very quietly, he said, “Yes, I do.”
Billy blinked, his eyes shifting just in time to see the faintest quirking at the corners of Sam Dickens’s mouth.
Swiftly Billy’s gun dropped in his lap, and his right hand lashed out, the flat of it cracking against Sam Dickens’s cheek. The movement was fast as lightning, and the blow had a surprising impact. It half turned Sam Dickens on his stool.
“Funny?” Billy snapped to the surprised Sam Dickens. “You think something’s funny, Dickens?”
Sam Dickens, his cheek flaming red where Billy’s hand had struck it, was silent for a moment. He shook his head. “No,” he said softly.
“Good.” Billy’s gun was back in his hand now. “That’s good. I thought you thought something was funny. I’ll let you know when something’s funny. All right, Dickens?”
Sam Dickens nodded faintly.
Billy’s tense look disappeared entirely. “Now sit up and drink your coffee.” He looked at Reverend Andrews still standing determinedly by the table. “You sit down, Reverend. I didn’t think you were a trouble-maker. Is that what preachers are for? To be trouble-makers? You just caused me to bust old Sam here in the face. What’s your Boss going to think of that? You better sit down, Reverend. You don’t want to be a trouble-maker, do you?”
Reverend Andrews licked his lips and slowly sat down.
Gloria Dickens, startled by the slap, but once again poised, said, “Why don’t you take a swing at me? Just for good measure.”
Billy grinned. “I’m afraid you might swing back, honey. Besides I wouldn’t want to hurt those pretty features of yours. You’re a doll, do you know that?”
“No kidding? I’d always thought I was real ugly.”
“Honey, you kill me.”
“Maybe I would if I had a chance.”
“You ain’t going to get a chance. Old Sam here ain’t going to help you get it anyway, is he, Gloria?”
“No,” Gloria said, glancing angrily at Sam, “I guess he’s not.”
“Then we’re all happy,” Billy said, looking toward the rear. “Where’s the breakfast, jelly roll?”
“Right away, right away!” Bob Saywell chattered. A moment later he scurried up with a large plate of eggs and bacon. He placed it obsequiously in front of Billy, then backed up and looked hopefully at the gunman, giving the impression of wringing his hands without actually doing it.
Billy placed his gun in his lap again and started eating ravenously. He paused suddenly, looking sideways at Bob Saywell, fork poised in air.
“Well, feed the rest of the animals, chunky. We’re all at the trough this morning!”
“Yes, sir!”
Bob Saywell had never given such service. He served the entire room in unbelievable time, then stood panting, waiting for Billy’s next desire.
Billy motioned with his gun. “What’s the matter with that
Similar Books
