He came out, found a stool near the phone booth, and sat down; then he called out, quite loudly, “Hello, is there anybody here?”

“Who do you think I am?” a voice demanded from behind the counter farther down. “Do you think I’m deaf or can’t you see?”

“The last one’s right,” said Duncan Maclain. “I’m blind.”

“Well, whatta ya know!”

Steps came toward him in back of the counter. He was conscious of an odor of pomade and clothes long impregnated with cooking. Someone breathed on him—a short man from the location of his head, and heavy, judging from the weight of his steps as he walked along the duckboards in back of the counter. The captain was suddenly conscious of his two-day growth of beard, his damp ragged shirt, and tousled hair.

“You must be that blind guy who goes hunting with Phil Barstow.”

“That’s right.” The captain held out his hand. “I’m Duncan Maclain.”

“Well, whatta ya know! I’m Nick Gherigis. I own the joint.”

A pudgy hand, freshly wiped but not too dry of dishwater, shook the captain’s, confirming his estimation of Nick’s height and girth by its feel.

“Phil’s been stopping in here for over ten years now. Where is he?”

The captain told Nick what had happened.

“Well, whatta ya know!” said Nick Gherigis. “My old lady’s got a bum ticker, too. We live out in back. She’s having to take it easy. Usually she helps, but right now all the work is on me. I’d drive you back to the camp now, but I don’t like to leave her.”

“I feel sure the ambulance will get there,” Maclain told him.

“It’ll get there for Barstow. He’s the big wheel around here. You hungry?”

“Plenty.”

“I’ll fix you up some ham and eggs.”

“I only have a dime with me.”

“Skip it,” Nick said. “Phil will pay me if you don’t.” He hesitated briefly. “Hell, I suppose if you can shoot a bird you can eat ham and eggs without me feeding you.”

The captain said, “I usually manage to find my mouth.”

The telephone rang in the booth.

“Shall I answer that for you?” Maclain got up from his stool.

Nick said, “Let it ring. The joint’s closed. It’s ten past 12. If you’ll excuse me a minute I think the old lady’s calling me.”

Over the intermittent ringing the captain heard the swish of a swinging door. He could follow Nick for a few quick steps. The phone bell rang again and at its pause he felt quite certain that out in the pantry Nick had closed another door.