“What the hell, then?” Ken took a fidgety step toward the door. “If the girls think they ain’t there—”

“But they ‘don’t’ think that. The pimps have got ‘em kidded that they’re watching the place day and night, which naturally makes it hard for the girls to relax and have fun like they want to. So—”

“Uh-huh? Yeah, yeah,” Ken said. “Go on, god-dang it!”

“So here’s what you do as soon as you go in. You tell the girls that you’ve taken care of the pimps real good, and that they won’t be nosing around a-tall. You tell ‘em that, and everything will be just fine an’ dandy.”

He said he’d tell ‘em what I said to. (And as it turned out, he told them exactly that.) Then, he went out the door and across the yard, moving so fast that I could hardly keep up with him.

We crossed through the edge of town, and I lined him upon the river road. He went on by himself, then, without so much as a nod. And then I reckon he remembered his manners, because he turned around and came back.

“Nick,” he said, “I’m obliged to you. Maybe I ain’t been too nice to you in the past, but I ain’t forgettin’ what you’ve done here tonight!”

“Aw, pshaw,” I said. “Comes to that, Ken, I ain’t forgetting all the things you’ve done, neither.”

“Well, anyways, I’m obliged to you,” he said.

“Why, it was a positive pleasure doin’ it,” I said. “A positive pleasure, and that’s a fact.”

8

Ken showed up at breakfast time the next morning, looking mighty peaked and pale and wrung-out. But all shook-up as he was, he managed to toss a lot of flattery at Myra and to say a few kind words to Lennie, so she treated him pretty nice. Not real nice, because she knew he’d spent the night in the whorehouse—which was the only place he could have spent it—but as nice as a lady could treat a gentleman under the circumstances. She kept urging him to have something to eat, and Ken kept turning it down with thanks and saying that he hardly ever et anything in the morning but just a little coffee, which was all he wanted now.

“I got to watch my weight, ma’am,” he said. “I ain’t got a naturally handsome figure like you and your fine-looking brother.”

Lennie giggled and spit at him; feelin’ pleased, you know. Myra blushed and said he was just a great big flatterer.

“Me? Me, flatter a woman?” Ken said. “Why, I never heard the like!”

“Oh, you! You know I don’t have a ‘really’ good figure.”

“Well, maybe not. But that’s because you ain’t fully developed yet,” Ken said. “You’re still a young girl.”

“Tee-hee,” Myra giggled. “You awful thing, you!”

“You just wait until you fill out a little,” Ken said. “Wait until you’re as old as your brother.”

Well, sir, lies like that can take a lot out of a man even when he’s feeling good. Which Ken sure wasn’t. He was just carrying on out of habit, and from the looks of him he was just about to the end of his rope. Fortunately, it seemed to occur to Myra about then that she was being a little too friendly with Ken and that she was letting him get pretty gay with her. So she froze up all of a sudden, and started clearing away the dishes. And Ken said his thank-yous and goodbyes, and I got him downstairs to my office.