Skip said to Karen, “Stay out here and keep an eye on that front door while we’re in there.”

Skip actually wasn’t much scared that Stolz would arrive; he thought that Mrs. Havermann had made up a yarn to frighten them. But he had begun to worry a little about Big Tom and his friends. They had to be out of here before Big Tom arrived.

On the bed Mrs. Havermann lay with her eyes shut. Her mouth was pinched and she seemed pale, almost bluish. “We’ll put the gag back,” Skip said, gathering up the scattered cotton.

Mrs. Havermann opened her eyes. “You are a wicked person,” she said. “God knows what you are doing here; He sees your every act. And He will punish you for it.”

For some reason it triggered Skip’s rage. He bent over her and slapped her hard and repeatedly. He had his fists doubled then, ready to pump blows into her face, when Eddie dragged him away. Eddie was yelling, “Sancta Maria!” and in a flood of Spanish he commanded Skip to leave her alone, not even realizing which tongue he used. He and Skip stood with their eyes not more than a couple of feet apart, and he heard Skip calling him a half-Mex bastard, and then he knew what he had said.

“Chrissakes, don’t beat up an old woman!” he told Skip.

“What was all that yap in Mex?”

“Just that. Don’t hurt her.”

Skip showed his teeth through the silk mask. “She knows where that money is.”

“Well—just ask her, then.”

“Ah, she’d never tell us.” By main force Skip got the wadding of cotton back into Mrs. Havermann’s unwilling mouth. He pushed it in hard, then wrapped her face in the piece of cloth.

“Not too tight,” Eddie warned.

“She’ll keep her yap shut now,” Skip said savagely, giving the wrapping another knot.

Eddie was uneasy, but he didn’t want another fight with Skip. He went to the closet door, opened it, and looked in. It was a big closet, neatly arranged, well filled with clothing. Skip inched Mrs. Havermann off the bed, carrying her by the shoulders, and he and Eddie got her into the closet under the hanging garments. She struggled and bumped around, made frantic muffled noises under the gag. Skip stood and watched interestedly from the closet doorway.

Eddie said nervously, “Please, Mrs. Havermann, just lie still. We won’t bother you again. Mr. Stolz will come and find you, and you’ll be all right.”

Mrs. Havermann thrashed and convulsed. Her thick legs whipped back and forth with surprising force, scattering some shoes set in a row along the closet wall.

“She acts like she’s having a doggone fit,” Skip said musingly.