At six-fifty-five
Two other people had been in the lunch-room
“Bright boy can do everything
“Yes?” George said. “Your friend
“We’ll give him ten minutes
Max watched the mirror and the clock. The hands of the clock marked seven o’clock
At six-fifty-five George said: “He’s not coming.”
Two other people had been in the lunch-room. Once George had gone out to the kitchen and made a ham-and-egg sandwich “to go” that a man wanted to take with him. Inside the kitchen he saw Al, his derby hat tipped back, sitting on a stool beside the wicket with the muzzle of of a sawed-off shotgun resting on the ledge. Nick and the cook were back in the corner, a towel tied in each of their mouths. George had cooked the sandwich, wrapped it up in oiled paper, put it in a bag, brought it in, and the man had paid for it and gone out.
“Bright boy can do everything,” Max said. “He can cook and everything. You’d make some girl a nice wife, bright boy.”
“Yes?” George said. “Your friend, Ole Andreson, isn’t going to come.”
“We’ll give him ten minutes,” Max said.
Max watched the mirror and the clock. The hands of the clock marked seven o’clock, and then five minutes past seven.
“Come on
“Better give him five minutes,” Al said from the kitchen.
In the five minutes a man came in, and George explained that the cook was sick
“Why don’t you get another cook
“Aren’t you running a lunch-counter
“Come on, Al,” Max said.
“What about
“The’re all right
“You think so
“Sure. We’re through with it
“I don’t like it
“Oh, what the hell,” said Max. “We got to keep amused, haven’t we?”
“You talk too much, all the same
“So long
“That’s the truth
The two of them went out the door. George watched them, through the window, pass under the arc-light
“Come on, Al,” said Max. “We better go. He’s not coming.”
“Better give him five minutes,” Al said from the kitchen.
In the five minutes a man came in, and George explained that the cook was sick.
“Why don’t you get another cook?” the man asked.
“Aren’t you running a lunch-counter?” He went out.
“Come on, Al,” Max said.
“What about the two bright boys and the nigger?”
“The’re all right.”
“You think so?”
“Sure. We’re through with it.”
“I don’t like it,” said Al. It’s sloppy. You talk too much.”
“Oh, what the hell,” said Max. “We got to keep amused, haven’t we?”
“You talk too much, all the same,” Al said. He came out from the kitchen. The cut-off barrels of the shotgun made a slight bulge under the waist of his too tight-fitting overcoat. He straightened his coat with his gloved hands.
“So long, bright boy,” he said to George. “You got a lot of luck.”
“That’s the truth,” Max said. You ought to play the races, bright boy.”
The two of them went out the door. George watched them, through the window, pass under the arc-light and cross the street. In their tight overcoats and derby hats they looked like a vaudeville team. George went back through the swinging-door into the kitchen and untied Nick and the cook.
vaudeville ['v@ud@vIl]
“I don’t want any more of that
Nick stood up
“Say
“They were going to kill Ole Andreson,” George said. “They were going to shoot him
“Ole Andreson?”
“Sure.”
The cook felt the corners of his mouth with his thumbs
“They all gone?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said George. “They’re gone now
“I don’t like it,” said the cook. “I don’t like any of it at all.”
“Listen,” George said to Nick. “You better go see Ole Andreson.”
“All right.”
“You better not have anything to do with it at all
“Don’t go if you don’t want to
“Mixing up in this
“I’ll go see him,” Nick said to George. “Where does he live
The cook turned away
“Little boys always know what they want to do
“He lives up
“I’ll go up there.”
“I don’t want any more of that,” said Sam, the cook. “I don’t want any more of that.”
Nick stood up. He had never had a towel in his mouth before.
“Say,” he said. “What the hell?” He was trying to swagger it off.
“They were going to kill Ole Andreson,” George said. “They were going to shoot him when he came in to eat.”
“Ole Andreson?”
“Sure.”
The cook felt the corners of his mouth with his thumbs.
“They all gone?” he asked.
“Yeah,” said George. “They’re gone now.”
“I don’t like it,” said the cook. “I don’t like any of it at all.”
“Listen,” George said to Nick. “You better go see Ole Andreson.”
“All right.”
“You better not have anything to do with it at all,” Sam, the cook, said. “You better stay way out of it.”
“Don’t go if you don’t want to,” George said.
“Mixing up in this ain’t going to get you anywhere,” the cook said. “You stay out of it.”
“I’ll go see him,” Nick said to George. “Where does he live?”
The cook turned away.
“Little boys always know what they want to do,” he said.
“He lives up at Hirsch’s rooming-house,” George said to Nick.
“I’ll go up there.”
thumb [TVm]
Outside the arc-light shone through the bare branches of a tree
“Is Ole Andreson here?”
“Do you want to see him?”
“Yes, if he’s in
Nick followed the woman up a flight of stairs