‘I suppose he could,’ Ginny said. ‘He’s certainly got imagination.’
‘That’s a fact. He wants me to go to the police and tell them. He reckons if they find the truck hidden in a caravan, they’ll give him the reward. Did you see they’ve raised the reward now to five thousand? That’s quite a slice of money.’
There was a pause, then Ginny said, ‘I can’t imagine them giving him the reward, can you, Mr. Bradford?’ Her smile was a little stiff. ‘You know how the police are about rewards.’
‘Well, yes,’ Bradford said. ‘I can’t make up my mind whether to go to the police or not. Mind you, I think the kid’s got something, but maybe they’ll tell me to mind my own business.’
‘Since you own a caravan, Mr. Bradford, it wouldn’t surprise me if they suspected you had stolen the truck yourself. I remember my father once found some pearls and gave them to the police, claiming the reward. They promptly arrested him, and it took weeks of expense to clear him, and he never got the reward.’
Bradford’s eyes opened very wide.
‘You don’t say! I hadn’t thought of that. I guess that settles it. I’ll leave well alone. I’m glad I talked to you. I sure hadn’t thought of that angle.’
He got to his feet.
‘This is goodbye, Mr. Bradford,’ Ginny said, smiling at him. ‘We are leaving tomorrow.’
‘You are? Why, that’s a shame! Don’t you like it here then?’
‘We love it, but we plan to make a long trip. We’re heading for Stag Lake, and then we’re going on to Deer Lake.’
‘That’s quite a trip! Well, I wish you happiness.’ Bradford shook hands. He stayed talking at the door for several more minutes while Ginny and Kitson stood there willing him to go. Then finally he waved his hand and went off along the moonlit path towards his own cabin.
Ginny shut the door and turned the key.
‘Well, as Mr. Bradford says, that settles it. We must go.’
‘Yeah,’ Kitson said. ‘You certainly handled that guy. You were terrific!’
‘Okay, okay, plough boy,’ Bleck said from the bedroom door. ‘Don’t get hysterical. That damned kid! I had an idea he heard us.’
Gypo came to the bedroom door and stood, listening.
‘Well, tomorrow we go,’ Bleck went on. ‘We can’t take a chance on that kid trying a fast one.’ He turned to Kitson. ‘Suppose you get out of here and stay with the caravan? That kid might take it into his head to come back and start snooping.’
Kitson nodded. He went to the door, unlocked it and went out into the night.
Gypo said in a flat, final voice, ‘Tomorrow, I go home. Understand? I’ve had enough. Now I’m going to bed.’
He went back into the bedroom and shut the door.
‘I’ll fix him,’ Bleck said, an ugly expression in his eyes. ‘I’m getting plenty tired of that creep.’
Ginny went into the kitchen and began preparing supper.
Bleck came to the door and leaned against it.
‘You handled that guy pretty well, baby,’ he said. ‘Have you thought any more about my proposition? I’m smart; you’re smart, so that makes us two smart people. How about it?’
She slid two big steaks into the frying pan.
‘I wouldn’t be interested if you were the last man left alive,’ she said not looking at him.
‘Okay, baby,’ he said. ‘We’ll see.’
He was grinning as if he had a secret joke as he wandered over to the armchair and sat down.
II
Early next morning, Kitson drove into town, leaving Ginny to sit near the caravan on guard while Bleck and Gypo remained in the cabin. This was taking a risk, but Gypo had been so difficult Bleck didn’t feel he could cope with him in the caravan.
Bleck and Kitson had had to tie Gypo to the bed and gag him: that was how bad he had been. When they had finally fastened him to the bed, Bleck, breathing heavily, a vicious expression in his eyes, waved Kitson out of the room. ‘You leave this jerk to me,’ he said. ‘I’ll persuade him to change his mind. By the time you get back, he’ll be willing to travel with us.’
Kitson hated leaving Gypo like that, but he knew they couldn’t hope to get the truck open without Gypo’s skill, and as Gypo seemed to have gone slightly off his head, he was relieved to push the responsibility onto Bleck.
In town, Kitson bought a fair-sized tent and a large stock of canned food. They had discussed the food problem and had decided that it wouldn’t be safe to go down to the town to shop once they were up in the mountains and they would have to take enough provisions to last them until Gypo opened the truck. He returned to the cabin with the trunk of the Buick full of his purchases.
Ginny came over as he got out of the car.
‘Anything happen?’ he asked.
She shook her head.
‘No, but I’m glad you’re back. I keep thinking of that kid. The sooner we leave the better.’
They went into the cabin together.
Gypo was sitting in one of the armchairs. His face was white and his eyes sunk deep into his head. He didn’t look up when they came in.
Bleck was pacing up and down, smoking.
‘All fixed?’ he said to Kitson.
‘I got everything.’
Kitson looked at Gypo and then at Bleck, his eyes question marks.
‘Gypo’s okay now,’ Bleck said. ‘I’ve talked to him and he’s ready to cooperate.’
‘You force me to do it,’ Gypo said, his voice shaking. ‘Nothing good will come of it. I’ve warned you before. Now I’m warning you again.’ He looked up suddenly at Kitson. ‘You were my friend. Some friend! You keep away from me! I don’t want anything more to do with you!’
‘What’s the matter then?’ Kitson asked, staring at him.
‘I had to get a little tough with him,’ Bleck said. ‘I had to convince him if he didn’t cooperate, he would run into a lot of trouble.’
‘He said he would break my hands,’ Gypo said in a low, shaking voice. ‘How can a man live without his hands?’
Kitson started to say something, but Bleck shook his head at him.
‘Come on, let’s get going,’ Bleck said. ‘Anyone around out there?’
Ginny and Kitson went outside.
There were boats on the lake, but no one in the immediate vicinity.
Kitson coupled up the caravan to the Buick, then backed the caravan close to the cabin door.
‘You guys ready?’
Bleck came to the door with Gypo.
Kitson opened the back of the caravan, and Bleck and Gypo got in quickly and Kitson shut the back. The move didn’t take a couple of seconds.
‘I’ll stay here while you settle with the office,’ Kitson said, giving Ginny his wallet.
While he waited, Kitson lit a cigarette and leaned against the side of the caravan. His nerves were tense now. They were going out into the open. It was asking for trouble, but there seemed no other way if they were going to open the truck.
‘Hey, mister!’
Kitson started and looked quickly around.
A small boy, in jeans and a red and white checkered shirt, a straw hat on his head came from around the other side of the caravan.
‘Hello,’ Kitson said.
The boy stared at him, his head a little on one side.
‘You know my pop,’ he said. ‘I’m Fred Bradford junior.’
‘Is that right?’ Kitson said, trying to sound casual.
The boy frowned at him, then transferred his attention to the caravan.
‘That yours?’ he asked, jerking his thumb at the caravan.