“Sit down anyway.” The tone was a trifle ugly. Skip lay on his back and lit a cigarette and blew smoke at the sky. Eddie sat down. He could see the girl’s face turned his way, a pale patch against the dark; he couldn’t make out her eyes. He wondered what she was thinking, what she expected Skip to do. Around them the young trees whispered under a touch of wind, and there was a wild dusty smell. It was quiet, a long way from the city.

“Who’s home at your place?” Skip asked all at once.

The girl didn’t catch on at once; then she said, “You mean at Mrs. Havermann’s?”

“Sure I mean at Mrs. Havermann’s.”

“Well, Mr. Stolz is there. He came this morning. There’s her, and me, and that’s all.”

“How long is Stolz going to be there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does he ever make a play for you, get fresh or funny, anything like that?”

“Why, of course he doesn’t. He’s real nice. You’d hardly know he was in the house. He reads, or types in the library, or takes walks. He’s friendly and . . . just sort of keeps to himself.”

“Does he ever count his money where you can see him?”

Karen threw a glance toward Eddie; Eddie saw the quick turn of her head and sensed her eyes on him. She was beginning to realize that Skip was in an unpredictable mood; perhaps she was wondering, too, how much he had told Eddie. “No,” she said uncertainly, “I’ve never seen the money.”

“But you know it’s there.”

“Mrs. Havermann thinks it’s there.”

“Thinks?” Skip jerked himself indignantly up on one elbow. “Now wait a minute. What is this? You expect us to go ahead on just what the old woman thinks?”

“What do you mean, go ahead?” Her tone was scared, a scared whisper.

“Why, what we were talking about, how to get hold of some of that dough for ourselves,” Skip said, maddeningly offhand. Eddie recognized the trick since Skip had played it a thousand times on him: delivering a jolt as if you were supposed to know all about it.

Karen seemed to huddle in the coat, shrinking down inside it. “You must be crazy, Skip. Just as crazy as can be.”

Skip was bolt upright now, his manner angry and astounded. “You mean you’ve been feeding me a bunch of lies? It’s all something you’ve made up in your head?”

He had confused her now. She said pleadingly, “You mistook what I said for something else. The money belongs to Mr. Stolz. He keeps it at Mrs. Havermann’s place on account of some tax business.”