There was no way he could pay Uncle Willy back for bringing Big Tom into the job, or at least none at present. The loss of the money would have to suffice.

Karen was in the classroom, though the bell hadn’t yet rung. She was sitting motionless before the typewriter. Skip slid into the empty chair in front of her, swinging a leg over so that he faced her, putting his hands on the chair back. “Hiya. Got the key?”

The little wing-like brows looked very dark against her pale skin, and her eyes, when she raised them, seemed buried in black lashes. “It wouldn’t have done any good.” Her voice was hoarse, and Skip caught the listless note and his attention sharpened. “She sent me downtown for the afternoon,” Karen went on, “and when I got back there were all new locks on Stolz’s room—the door, the windows too. I could see the new brass fixtures from the yard.”

“How does she act to you?”

“I thought for a moment——” Karen bit her lip. “I thought she was going to talk to me about it.”

Skip leaned closer, his stare narrowing. “How does she look at you? As if she thinks you’re up to something? You’d catch that, wouldn’t you?”

“She looks at me the way she always does.”

“That’s good.” Skip thought about it, teetering on the legs of the chair. A few early arrivals were coming in; he lowered his tone to a whisper. “Look, I don’t really care what kind of damned lock is on the door. Not tonight. This is the night we roll. If she’s scared, scared enough to give us the key, good. If not——”

Karen seemed panic-stricken. “You’d let her see you?”

Skip nodded. “Why not? I’ll fix it so she’ll never recognize me.”

Her hands fluttered on the keys of the machine. All color had left her face and her eyes burned with fright. “I won’t let you in to hurt her or scare her.”

Skip shrugged. “You getting ready to tip the old woman off?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Look, you don’t seem to understand the choice you’ve got here. You either line up with Eddie and me and help us in the house, or you tip off the old woman and she calls the bulls. There isn’t going to be any way for you to chicken out, do nothing, keep your goddamn skirts clear.” He reached, grabbed one of her hands, twisted the fingers painfully. “If you help us, you help all the way. See? A nice quick job, and we’ll be cleared out and miles away by nine-thirty, if we leave class right at nine.”