he bent over it。 Then he pointed with his finger。 The place was one of the many canyons off the foothill boulevard that turns into town from the coast highway north of Bay City。 I had a vague idea where it was； but no more。 It seemed to be at the end of a street called Camino de la Costa。
〃It will be not more than twelve minutes from here；〃 Marriott said quickly。 〃We'd better get moving。 We only have twenty minutes to play with。〃
He handed me a light colored overcoat which made me a fine target。 It fitted pretty well。 I wore my own hat。 I had a gun under my arm； but I hadn't told him about that。
While I put the coat on； he went on talking in a light nervous voice and dancing on his hands the thick manila envelope with the eight grand in it。
〃Purissima Canyon has a sort of level shelf at the inner end of it； they say。 This is walled off from the road by a white fence of four…by…fours； but you can just squeeze by。 A dirt road winds down into a little hollow and we are to wait there without lights。 There are no houses around。〃
〃We？〃
〃Well； I mean 'I'…theoretically。〃
He handed me the manila envelope and I opened it up and looked at what was inside。 It was money all right； a huge wad of currency。 I didn't count it。 I snapped the rubber around again and stuffed the packet down inside my overcoat。 It almost caved in a rib。
We went to the door and Marriott switched off all the lights。 He opened the front door cautiously and peered out at the foggy air。 We went out and down the salt…tarnished spiral stairway to the street level and the garage。
It was a little foggy； the way it always is down there at night。 I had to start up the windshield wiper for a while。
The big foreign car drove itself； but I held the wheel for the sake of appearances。
For two minutes we figure…eighted back and forth across the face of the mountain and then popped out right beside the sidewalk cafe。 I could understand now why Marriott had told me to walk up the steps。 I could have driven about in those curving； twisting streets for hours without making any more yardage than an angleworm in a bait can。
On the highway the lights of the streaming cars made an almost solid beam in both directions。 The big cornpoppers were rolling north growling as they went and festooned all over with green and yellow overhang lights。 Three minutes of that and we turned inland； by a big service station； and wound along the flank of the foothills。 It got quiet。 There was loneliness and the smell of kelp and the smell of wild sage from the hills。 A yellow window hung here and there； all by itself； like the last orange。 Cars passed； spraying the pavement with cold white light； then growled off into the darkness again。 Wisps of fog chased the stars down the sky。
Marriott leaned forward from the dark rear seat and said：
〃Those lights off to the right are the Belvedere Beach Club。 The next canyon is Las Pulgas and the next afterthat Purissima。 We turn right at the top of the second rise。〃 His voice was hushed and taut。
I grunted and kept on driving。 〃Keep your head down；〃 I said over my shoulder。 〃We may be watched all the way。 This car sticks out like spats at an Iowa picnic。 Could be the boys don't like your being twins。〃
We went down into a hollow at the inward end of a canyon and then up on the high ground and after a little while down again and up again。 Then Marriott's tight voice said in my ear：
〃Next street on the right。 The house with the square turret。 Turn beside that。〃
〃You didn't help them pick this place out； did you？〃
〃Hardly；〃 he said； and laughed grimly。 〃I just happen to know these canyons pretty well。〃
I swung the car to the right past a big corner house with a square white turret topped with round tiles。 The headlights sprayed for an instant on a street sign that read： Camino de la Costa。 We slid down a broad avenue lined with unfinished electroliers and weed…grown sidewalks。 Some realtor's dream had turned into a hangover there。 Crickets chirped and bullfrogs whooped in the darkness behind the overgrown sidewalks。 Marriott's car was that silent。
There was a house to a block； then a house to two blocks； then no houses at all。 A vague window or two was still lighted； but the people around there seemed to go to bed with the chickens。 Then the paved avenue ended abruptly in a dirt road packed as hard as concrete in dry weather。 The lights of the Belvedere Beach Club hung in the air to the right and far ahead there was a gleam of moving water。 The acrid smell of the sage filled the night。 Then a white painted barrier loomed across the dirt road and Marriott spoke at my shoulder again。
〃I don't think you can get past it；〃 he said。 〃The space doesn't look wide enough。〃
I cut the noiseless motor； dimmed the lights and sat there； listening。 Nothing。 I switched the light off altogether and got out of the car。 The crickets stopped chirping。 For a little while the silence was so plete that I could hear the sound of tires on the highway at the bottom of the cliffs； a mile away。 Then one by one the crickets started up again until the night was full of them。
〃Sit tight。 I'm going down there and have a look see；〃 I whispered into the back of the car。
I touched the gun butt inside my coat and walked forward。 There was more room between the brush and the end of the white barrier than there had seemed to be from the car。 Someone had hacked the brush away and there were car marks in the dirt。 Probably kids going down there to neck on warm nights。 I went on past the barrier。 The road dropped and curved。 Below was darkness and a vague far off sea…sound。 And the lights of cars on the highway。 I went on。 The road ended in a shallow bowl entirely surrounded by brush。 It was empty。 There seemed to be no way into it but the way I had e。 I stood there in the silence and listened。
Minute passed slowly after minute； but I kept on waiting for some new sound。 None came。 I seemed to have that hollow entirely to myself。
I looked across to the lighted beach club。 From its upper windows a man with a good night glass could probably cover this spot fairly well。 He could see a car e and go； see who got out of it； whether there was a group of men or just one。 Sitting in a dark room with a good night glass you can see a lot more detail than you would think possible。
I turned to go back up the hill。 From the base of a bush a cricket chirped loud enough to make me jump。 I went on up around the curve and past the white barricade。 Still nothing。 The black car stood dimly shining against a grayness which was neither darkness nor light。 I went over to it and put a foot on the running board beside the driver's seat。
〃Looks like a tryout；〃 I said under my breath； but loud enough for Marriott to hear me from the back of the car。 〃Just to see if you obey orders。〃
There was a vague movement behind but he didn't answer。 I went on trying to see something besides bushes。
Whoever it was had a nice easy shot at the back of my head。 Afterwards I thought I might have heard the swish of a sap。 Maybe you always think that…afterwards。
10
〃Four minutes；〃 the voice said。 〃Five； possibly six。 They must have moved quick and quiet。 He didn't even let out a yell。〃
I opened my eyes and looked fuzzily at a cold star。 I was lying on my back。 I felt sick。
The voice said： 〃It could have been a little longer。 Maybe even eight minutes altogether。 They must have been in the brush； right where the car stopped。 The guy scared easily。 They must have thrown a small light in his face and he passed out…just from panic。 The pansy。〃
There was silence。 I got up on one knee。 Pains shot from the back of my head clear to my ankles。
〃Then one of them got into the car；〃 the voice said； 〃and waited for you to e back。 The others hid again。 They must have figured he would be afraid to e alone。 Or something in his voice made them suspicious； when they talked to him on the phone。〃
I balanced myself woozily on the flat of my hands； listening。
〃Yeah； that was about how it was；〃 the voice said。
It was my voice。 I was talking to myself； ing out of it。 I was trying to figure the thing out subconsciously。
〃Shut up； you dimwit；〃 I said； and stopped talking to mysel