Chapter 4 Chapter 4 The Dog House
"Come in," called Ned Beaumont, eating his breakfast in bed.Later, as the door to the outer room opened and closed, he asked, "Who is it?"
"Where are you, Ned?" asked a deep, raspy voice in the living room.Before Ned Beaumont could answer, the owner of the raspy voice came to the bedroom door and said, "It's very comfortable, you." It was a sturdy young man with a square, sallow face, and wide, thick lips, There was a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and his dark eyes squinted happily.
"Why, 'Whiskey,'" Ned Beaumont said to him, "get yourself a chair."
"Whiskey" looked around the room. "This place is not bad." He said, took out the cigarette dangling from his lips, and pointed the cigarette over his shoulder to the living room outside without looking back, "What's the matter with the luggage outside? Are you moving out?"
Ned Beaumont had chewed his scrambled eggs thoroughly before replying, "That's the intention."
"Really?" "Whiskey" said, walked to a chair facing the bed and sat down, "Where are you going?"
"New York, probably."
"What does it mean?"
"Well, anyway, I've got a ticket for going there," said Ned Beaumont.
"Whiskey" flicked the ash on the ground and stuffed the cigarette back into the left corner of his mouth.He sniffled. "How long are you going to go?"
Ned Beaumont took coffee from the dinner plate to drink, stopped halfway, and looked at the sallow-faced young man through the coffee, thinking deeply. "I bought a one-way ticket." He finally spoke, and drank his coffee.
Whiskey squinted at Ned Beaumont until one of his dark eyes closed and the other narrowed into a thin black slit.He took the cigarette from his mouth and flicked more ash on the floor, a sort of coaxing in his husky voice. "Why don't you meet Sand before you go?" he suggested.
Ned put down his glass and smiled. "Shad's friendship with me is not that good, and it won't make him sad if he doesn't say goodbye before leaving."
"That's beside the point," said Whiskey.
Ned Beaumont put the tray on his lap on the bedside table, turned on his side, propped his hands on the pillows, pulled the coverlet to his chest, and asked, "What's the point?"
"The point is that you and Shad should be able to work together."
"I don't think so." Ned Beaumont shook his head.
"Don't you ever make a mistake?" Whiskey asked.
"Of course not," confessed the man lying on the bed. "I made a mistake once in 1912. I have forgotten what it was."
"Whiskey" stood up, wrung out a cigarette in a saucer on the dinner plate, then stood beside the bed, approached the bedside table and said, "Why don't you try it, Ned?"
Ned Beaumont frowned. "Whiskey, this is a waste of time. I don't think Shad and I can work together."
Whiskey smacked his lips loudly.The thick, downturned lips made the voice sound contemptuous. "Shad thinks so," he said.
Ned Beaumont's eyes widened. "Is that so?" he asked. "He sent you?"
"Isn't that nonsense?" said Whiskey, "otherwise why would I come here to tell you this?"
"Why?" asked Ned Beaumont, narrowing his eyes again.
"Because he thinks he can cooperate with you."
"I mean," Ned Beaumont explained, "why did he think I'd want to work with him?"
Whiskey put on a disgusted expression. "Ned, you're playing tricks on me, aren't you?"
"no."
"Well, for Christ's sake, don't you think the whole town already knows that you and Paul had a falling out at Pip Carson's saloon yesterday?"
Ned Beaumont nodded. "I see." His voice was soft as if he was talking to himself.
"That's right," Whiskey told him affirmatively, "Shad just learned that the reason for your quarrel is because you think Paul shouldn't go to Feng Shad's shop. So if you are willing to think about it, now you and Shad Isn't Germany on the same side?"
Ned Beaumont thought. "I don't know. I want to get out of here and go back to the big city."
"Use your head," said Whiskey harshly, "and the big cities will be there after the election. Stay. You know Sand has money, and to deal with Mazvi, he Money is being thrown around. Why not stay and get a piece of it?"
"Well," said Ned Beaumont slowly, "it's not a piece of cake to talk to him about."
"You're fucking right, of course not," said Whiskey enthusiastically. "Put on your diaper and let's go."
"All right," said Ned Beaumont, and got out of bed.
Shad O'Leary stood up and nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Beaumont," he said. "Leave your hat and coat where you want." He made no intention of shaking hands.
"Good morning," said Ned Beaumont, and began to take off his overcoat.
"Whiskey" stood by the door and said, "Then, you two, see you later."
O'Lori said: "Okay, let's go." So Whiskey closed the door when he exited, leaving the two of them in the house.
Ned Beaumont threw his overcoat on the arm of the sofa, put his hat on top of it, and sat down beside him.He looked at O'Lori with no curiosity in his eyes.
O'Lori sat back in his heavy dark wine-red chair sprinkled with gold, crossed his legs, put his fingertips together, put his two thumbs together on his knees.His elegantly chiseled head was lowered slightly on his chest, and the gray-blue eyes below his brows were lifted up to look at Ned Beaumont."I owe you for trying to convince Paul—" he said in that sweet Irish accent.
"You don't owe me anything," said Ned Beaumont.
"I don't owe?" O'Lori asked.
"Yeah. I was doing it for him and I told him it was for his own good. I think he did a terrible job of that."
O'Lori smiled kindly and said, "And he will know soon."
Silence spread between them.O'Leary smiled at Ned Beaumont, half-slumped in his chair.Ned Beaumont sat on the couch and looked back, with no thought in his eyes.
O'Lori broke the silence with a question: "What does 'whiskey' tell you?"
"Don't say anything, just say you want to see me."
"He did the right thing," O'Leary said.He separated his hands, and the palm of one hand covered the other slender hand. "Have you really broken it with Paul?"
"I thought you knew already," Ned Beaumont answered. "I thought that was why you came to me."
"I've heard about it," O'Lori said, "but the rumors are always different. What are you going to do now?"
"I have a bus ticket to New York in my pocket, and my clothes are packed."
O'Lori raised one hand and combed his smooth white hair. "You came here from New York, didn't you?"
"I never told anyone where I was from."
O'Lori moved his hands away from his hair and made a small gesture of protest. "You don't think I care about other people's parentage, do you?" he asked.
Ned Beaumont said nothing.
The white-haired man said, "But I do care where you're going. If I'm sorry, I hope you don't go to New York for a while. Does it never occur to you that you can still do something here?"
"No," said Ned Beaumont, "I mean, I never thought about it until 'Whiskey' came to me."
"So what do you think now?"
"I don't have a concept yet, I'm waiting to hear what you have to say."
O'Lori reached out to touch his hair again, his gray-blue eyes were friendly and keen."How long have you been here?" he asked.
"Fifteen months."
"Then how long have you and Paul been like brothers?"
"One year."
O'Leary nodded. "You probably know a lot about him."
"That's right."
O'Luo Rui said: "You probably know a lot of things that are useful to me."
"Make your bid," said Ned Beaumont calmly.
O'Leary got up from the big chunky chair and walked to the door opposite the one through which Ned Beaumont had come, and when it opened a large English Bulldog waddled in .O'Lori returned to his seat, and the dog lay on the carpet in front of O'Lori's wine-red and gilded chair, staring up at its owner sullenly.
O'Lori said: "The first condition I can make is to give you the opportunity to take revenge on Paul."
Ned Beaumont said, "That's nothing to me."
"yes?"
"We all broke up."
O'Lori raised his head and asked softly, "And you don't want to do anything to hurt him?"
"I didn't say that," replied Ned Beaumont, a little petulantly. "I don't care to hurt him, but I can do it myself if I want to. I don't want you to think it's a good thing to give me a chance of revenge." .”
O'Lori nodded happily. "Just what I want," he said, "I'll make him look good anyway. Why did he want to get rid of Henry?"
Ned Beaumont laughed. "Don't worry," he said, "you haven't given your price yet. This dog looks nice. How old is it?"
"It's almost reached the limit, seven years old." O'Lori stretched out his toes to rub against the tip of the dog's nose, and the dog wagged its tail lazily.
"So what do you think of this? After the election, I'm going to open the best racetrack in the state, give you full control, and give you the best support."
"It's just an advance price," said Ned Beaumont in a languid tone. "It won't count until you win the election. I'm not likely to stay after the election anyway, or even until the election. "
O'Leary stopped rubbing the dog's nose with his toes, looked up at Ned Beaumont again, and asked with a tranced smile, "You don't think we will win?"
Ned Beaumont smiled. "I don't think the odds are half."
O'Lori still kept that dazed smile, and asked another question: "You don't really want to follow me, do you, Beaumont?"
"Yes." Beaumont stood up and took his hat, "I didn't intend to do that at all." His tone was indifferent, and his face maintained a polite expressionless state, "I told 'Whiskey' that it was just a waste of time ’” He reached for his coat.
"Sit down. We can still talk, right? Maybe we can agree on something else," the gray-haired man said.
Ned Beaumont hesitated, shrugged his shoulders lightly, took off his hat, put his coat back on the sofa, and sat down beside him.
"If you're willing to join, I'll give you $10,000 in cash right away, and if you beat Paul, I'll give you another $10,000 on election night," O'Leary said. "The casino thing still counts, you want it or not."
Ned Beaumont stared sullenly at O'Leary, his lips pursed and his brows drooping. "You want me to betray him, of course," he said.
"I want you to tell the Observer everything you know about Paul's messes—such as the gutter contract, what he was up to, and how he killed Tyler Henry, plus last winter's The shoemaker's sordidness, and his vile means of ruling the city."
"There's nothing to do about the gutters now," said Ned Beaumont absently, as if his mind were preoccupied with other things. "He's given up the oil and water in it, so as not to get all dirty."
"Okay," O'Lori said confidently, "but there must be something wrong with Tyler Henry."
"That's right, that's a trick." Ned Beaumont said, frowning, "but I don't know if the shoemaker's business can be used—" he hesitated, "it will get me into trouble." of."
"Damn it, that won't work," O'Lori said quickly, "That's fine. What else do we have?"
"Maybe the bus exclusivity extension could be a bit of an issue; and some disputes at the county office last year. Still have to do some digging first though."
"It'll be worth it to both of us," O'Leary said. "I'll ask Hinkle—the Observer guy—to make things concrete. You just have to tell Him, let him write it. We can start with Tyler Henry's murder. That's the best thing."
Ned Beaumont ran his thumbnail through his moustache and murmured, "Maybe."
Shad O'Leary smiled. "You mean we should start with that ten thousand?" he asked. "That's a clue." He got up and walked across the room to the door that the dog had just entered.He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him.The dog was still lying in front of the wine-red and gold-sprinkled chair, and did not get up.
Ned Beaumont lit a cigar and the dog turned to stare at him.
O'Rlory came back with a thick wad of green hundred-dollar bills, $10,000 written in blue ink on the brown paper tape tied around the bills.He slapped the bundle of bills again, and said, "Hinkle is here now, and I've called him in."
Ned Beaumont frowned. "I'm going to need some time to sort things out in my head."
"Tell Hinkle whatever comes to mind, and he'll sort it out."
Ned Beaumont nodded, exhaled cigar smoke and said, "Okay, no problem."
O'Lori handed out the wad of banknotes.
"Thanks," said Ned Beaumont, putting the money in the inside pocket of his coat.His flat chest bulged out through his coat.
Shad O'Leary said, "Each to each other," and sat back in his old chair.
Ned Beaumont pulled his cigar from his mouth. "But I remember something, and I have something to tell you," he said, "Paul didn't bother you so much about getting Walter Evans to kill West."
O'Leary looked at Ned Beaumont curiously for a while before asking, "Why?"
"Paul won't let people from the club give him an alibi."
"You mean he's going to order the club to forget that Evans was there?"
"That's right."
O'Lori smacked his tongue and coughed twice, and asked, "How could he have thought that I had worked on Evans?"
"Well, we already guessed."
O'Leary smiled. "You mean, you guessed it," he said, "Paul's not that bright."
Ned Beaumont made a modest face, and asked, "What did you do to him?"
O'Luo Rui smiled lowly. "We sent that jerk off to Brewood to buy that old pistol." His blue-gray eyes suddenly hardened and sharpened, and then the look of pleasure came back to him, "Well, it doesn't matter now anyway. , Paul will stick to me. But that's what makes him start to hate me, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Ned Beaumont told him, "but it probably will be sooner or later. Paul thinks he got you started here, and you should stay under his wing and not grow up against him."
O'Leary smiled softly. "And I'll be the one to make him regret it," he promised, "and he can—"
The door opened and a man walked in.He was young, in baggy gray clothes, with large ears and a nose.His unkempt brown hair was unkempt and his dirty face was lined with lines beyond his age.
"Come in, Hinkle," said O'Leary. "This is Beaumont. He'll give you the clue. When you're done, let me read it, and we'll have the first shot in tomorrow's paper."
Hinkle smiled, showing his rotten teeth, and grunted some inaudible politeness to Ned Beaumont.
Ned Beaumont stood up and said, "Well, now go back to my place and do it."
O'Leary shook his head. "It's better here," he said.
Ned Beaumont picked up his hat and coat and smiled. "I'm sorry, but I have to wait for a few calls and take care of things. Hinkle, go get your hat."
Hinkle stood numb, looking terrified.
O'Leary said, "You have to stay here, Beaumont. We can't take the risk if something happens to you. You're here, and we can take care of you."
Ned Beaumont couldn't have smiled sweeter. "If what you're worried about is money—" He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out the wad of banknotes, "You can keep them for now and give them to me after I finish telling the inside story."
"I'm not worried about anything," O'Lori said calmly, "but your current situation is very dangerous. If Paul knows that you have come to find me... I don't want to take any risks and let you be killed by him."
"Then you'll have to risk it," said Ned Beaumont. "I'm going."
O'Lori said, "No."
"Okay," said Ned Beaumont.
Hinkle turned quickly and walked out of the room.
Ned Beaumont turned and walked to the other door.He came in through this door just now, and he walked straight through without hesitation.
O'Leary said something to the bulldog at his feet, and the dog got up awkwardly and hurriedly, and staggered around Ned Beaumont to the door.It stood in front of the door with its legs splayed, glaring fiercely at Ned Beaumont.
Ned Beaumont smiled slightly with his lips pursed, and turned to look at O'Leary again.He held up the stack of hundred-dollar bills in his hand, said "keep it for yourself", and threw it towards O'Luo Rui.
As soon as Ned Beaumont's hand dropped, the bulldog jumped up awkwardly to get up and bite Ned Beaumont's wrist.Ned was pulled to the left by the force, and in order to shake off the heavy body of the dog, he knelt down on one foot, his arms almost touching the ground.
Shad O'Leary got up from his chair and walked to the door that Hinkle had left.He opened the door and said, "Come in," and went to Ned Beaumont.Beaumont, still on his knees, tried to remove his hand from the dog's mouth.The dog was almost on the floor, its limbs clenched, and it was biting his arm.
"Whiskey" walked in with two others.One of the simian-looking men was the bow-legged man who had gone to the cabin club with Shad O'Leary, and the other was a sandy-haired lad of not twenty, stocky, ruddy-cheeked, and sullen.The sullen boy moved around behind Ned Beaumont, between Beaumont and the door.The bow-legged thug put his right hand on Ned Beaumont's left arm, which was still bitten by the dog, and Whiskey stood between Ned Beaumont and the other door.
Then O'Lori barked at the dog: "Petty."
The dog let go of Ned Beaumont's wrist and staggered back to his master.
Ned Beaumont stood up, his sweat-drenched face pale.He looked at the torn sleeves and wrists of his coat, blood streaming down his hands.His hands were shaking.
"Just wait and see," O'Leary said in his melodious Irish accent.
Ned Beaumont lifted his gaze from his wrist to the gray-haired man. "Yeah," he said, "it's going to take some seriousness to keep me from getting out of here."
Ned Beaumont opened his eyes with a groan.
The rosy-cheeked, sandy-haired chap turned his head and snarled, "Shut up, you bastard."
The dark-faced, ape-like fellow said, "Leave him alone, Rusty. Maybe he'll try to run away again, and then we can have some fun." He grinned at his swollen knuckles, " Make a move."
Ned Beaumont muttered something about Feidink and sat up.The bed he was in was narrow, without any sheets or covers, and the bare mattress was stained with blood.His face was not only swollen, but also bruised and stained with blood.Hard blood clots stained his sleeve from the dog bite on his wrist, and the blood was drying on his hand.Here is a small bedroom mainly in yellow and white, with two chairs, a table, a chest of drawers, a full-length mirror, and three French prints in white frames beside the bed.A door at the end of the bed was open, revealing a corner of the white-tiled bathroom.There was another door closed, and there were no windows in the room.
Ape-like black-faced men and rosy-cheeked, sandy-haired lads sat on chairs playing cards.There are about twenty yuan bills and silver coins on the table.
Ned Beaumont stared at the two card players and began to crawl out of bed with hate in his brown eyes and a somber gleam from the deepest.It was extremely difficult for him to get out of bed, his right arm was hanging limply, and he could only move his legs one by one to the side of the bed with his left hand.He also fell back twice before having to prop himself up again with his left hand.
Once in the middle, the ape-like man looked away from the cards in his hand, squinted at him, and asked jokingly, "How are you doing, brother?" Everyone ignored him.
Finally, trembling, he stood up beside the bed, stabilized himself with his left hand on the edge of the bed, then stood up straight, fixedly looked at his target, and staggered towards the closed door.Near the end he stumbled and fell to his knees, but grabbed the knob with his left hand desperately, and managed to get up again.
The monkey-like man carefully placed his cards on the table and said, "It's time." He grinned, showing his beautiful white teeth, and his mouth was opened so wide that he could see the false teeth inside.He came to stand beside Ned Beaumont.
Ned Beaumont tugged at the doorknob.
"Watch out," said the simian man, and he threw a right hook into Ned Beaumont's face with all his strength.
Ned Beaumont was thrown against the wall behind him.The back of the head hit the wall first, then the whole body, and then slid along the wall to the floor.
Rusty, rosy-cheeked, still sitting at the table, cards in hand, said sullenly but without emotion, "God, Jeff, you're going to kill him."
"Him?" Jeff said, kicking Beaumont lightly on the thigh. "He's unbeatable, he's very strong. He's a strong little boy, and that's what he loves." He bent down, grabbed the lapel of Beaumont's jacket with both hands, and dragged him into a kneeling position, "You Don't you like it, baby?" he asked, taking Beaumont in one hand and punching him in the face with the other.
The doorknob rang from outside.
"Who?" Jeff called.
Shad O'Leary's cheerful voice sounded: "Me."
Jeff dragged Ned Beaumont aside to let the door open, then dropped him there and took the key from his pocket to open the door.
O'Leary and Whiskey enter.O'Lori glanced at the people on the floor, then at Jeff, and finally at Rusty.When he asked Rusty, his gray-blue eyes were clouded. "Is Jeff beating him up again for fun?"
The ruddy boy shook his head. "This Beaumont is a son of a bitch," he said darkly. "Every time he wakes up, he gets up and makes trouble."
"I don't want him to die, not yet." O'Leary looked down at Beaumont, "See if I can wake him up, I want to talk to him."
Rusty stood up from the table. "I don't know," he said, "he's very unconscious."
Jeff is more optimistic. "Of course," he said, "you watch. Rusty, lift his leg." And he put his hands under Ned Beaumont's armpits.
They carried the unconscious Beaumont into the bathroom and into the tub.Jeff plugged the stopper, unscrewed both the upper shower head and the lower faucet to turn on cold water. "He'll wake up and sing in no time," he predicted.
Five minutes later, Ned Beaumont stopped when they dragged him dripping out of the tub and let his feet touch the floor.They took him back to the bedroom again.O'Leary was sitting in a chair smoking a cigar. "Whiskey" is gone.
"Put him on the bed." O'Lori ordered.
Jeff and Rusty helped the man to the edge of the bed, turned him around, and pushed him onto the bed.As soon as they let go, Beaumont fell flat on his back.They pulled him back up into a sitting position, and Jeff slapped his bruised face and said, "Come on, wretch, wake up."
"Yeah, so he's sure to wake up," muttered the gloomy Rusty.
"Did you think he wouldn't?" Jeff asked cheerfully, slapping Ned Beaumont again.
Ned Beaumont had only one eye that was not so swollen that it could not be opened.He opened that eye.
"Beaumont," O'Leary said.
Ned Beaumont looked up and tried to look around the room, but there seemed to be no sign that he saw Shad O'Leary.
O'Lori stood up from the chair, walked up to Beaumont, bent down and put his face only inches away from him, and asked, "Beaumont, can you hear me?"
Ned Beaumont's open eye met O'Leary's with blank hatred.
O'Leary asked, "Beaumont, this is O'Leary. Can you hear me?"
With difficulty moving his swollen lips, Ned Beaumont let out a thick "yes."
O'Lori said: "Okay. Now listen carefully. You will tell me the inside story of Paul." He enunciated clearly, his voice didn't raise his voice, and he didn't lose that sense of rhythm at all, "Maybe you think you won't , but you will. From now on, I'm going to entertain you until you say so. Do you understand?"
Ned Beaumont laughed.The bruise on his face made the smile creepy. "I won't say it," he responded.
O'Lori stepped back, and then said, "Let's do it."
While Rusty was still hesitating, the ape-like Jeff had knocked Ned Beaumont's upraised hand aside and pushed him onto the bed. "Let me try it." He grabbed Ned Beaumont's legs and threw him on the bed, then pressed on top of him, his hands busy torturing him.
Ned Beaumont's body and limbs convulsed and convulsed, and after three groans he lay still.
Jeff straightened up, took his hands off the man on the bed, and gasped heavily through that simian mouth.He growled half complaining, half apologetic: "It's really not the time, he passed out again."
When Ned Beaumont awoke he was alone in the room.The light was on, and he climbed out of bed with as much labor as before, and walked across the room to the door.The door is locked.He was fumbling for the door knob when it swung open, knocking him against the wall.
Jeff walked in barefoot in his underwear. "Aren't you sick?" he asked. "You're always playing tricks. Don't you get tired of hitting the floor?" He locked Ned Beaumont's throat with his left hand, and punched Ned Beaumont twice with his right hand. Face, but not as heavy as before.Then he pushed Ned back to the edge of the bed and threw him on top. "Be good this time." He growled.
Ned Beaumont lay motionless with his eyes closed.
Jeff walked out, locking the door behind him.
Ned Beaumont crawled out of bed in pain and went to the door.He touched the door, then took two steps back, tried to slam it hard, but only staggered and fell on the door.He kept trying until the door was slammed open again by Jeff.
"I've never seen a guy who likes to be beaten so much," said Jeff, "and I haven't met anyone who likes to be beaten so much." He cocked sideways and punched his fist under his knees and straight up.
Ned Beaumont stood blankly to meet the fist.The blow hit him in the chest, sent him flying across the room, and then fell flat.He was still lying there when Whiskey came in two hours later.
"Whiskey" poured water from the bathroom to wake him up and helped him lie down on the bed. "Use your head," begged Whiskey, "these rascals will kill you, and they don't care."
Ned Beaumont stared dully at Whiskey with one dull, bloodshot eye. "Let them go," he said with difficulty.
He falls asleep afterwards, until he is awakened by O'Leary, Jeff, and Rusty.He refused to tell O'Leary anything about Paul Mazvi, and was dragged out of bed, knocked unconscious, and thrown back on the bed.
This process was repeated over the next few hours, and they gave him nothing to eat.
When he regained consciousness after the last beating, he crawled into the bathroom on all fours and saw a narrow strip of safety razor on the floor behind the vanity brackets, with the red rust that had grown over it for months.It took him a good ten minutes to get the blade out of the back of the bracket, and it took him a dozen tries before his limp fingers managed to lift it from the tile floor.He tried to cut his own throat with the blade, but the blade only scratched three shallow cuts on his chin before falling to the ground.He lay on the bathroom floor, sobbing and falling asleep.
After waking up again, he could stand up.He doused his head with cold water and drank four more glasses of water.The water made him sick and he shivered with cold.He went into the bedroom and lay down on the bare, bloodstained mattress, but got up again almost immediately.He stumbled and staggered back to the bathroom, getting on his knees and groping the floor for the rusty razor blade.He sat on the floor and put the razor blade in his vest pocket.As he stuffed it in, his fingers touched the lighter.He took it out and looked at it for a moment, and a sly look flashed in his one open eye, with a frenzied gleam.
He got up from the bathroom floor and went back to the bedroom again, his teeth rattling from the shaking.He let out a rough laugh when he saw the newspaper under the table where the monkey man and the red-faced boy had played cards.He tore, crumpled, and crumpled the newspaper with his hands, and carried it to the door, where he piled it on the floor beside it.In each drawer of the chest of drawers he found a folded sheet of paper for the bottom.He crumpled the papers and put them with the newspaper by the door, and then he made a long and deep gash in the mattress with a razor blade, and took out a large handful of gray cheesecloth stuffed inside, and piled them on by the door.Now his trembling had stopped, his gait was no longer faltering, and his hands were quicker.Now he was frantically digging at the mattress, digging out the thick inner lining and placing it by the door.
Then he giggled and managed to light the fire after two tries.He let the flame near the bottom of the pile of papers by the door.At first he stood very close to the pile of papers, then crouched down.But the smoke was getting thicker and thicker, forcing him to retreat reluctantly step by step, coughing while retreating.After a while he went into the bathroom, soaked a towel with water and put it over his head, covering his eyes, nose and mouth.Then he stumbled back to the bedroom.In the smoky room, only a vague figure could be seen falling against the bed and sitting on the floor beside the bed.
Jeff was there when he came in.
Jeff coughed and cursed, covering his nose and mouth with a handkerchief.He pushed back most of the fire a bit as he opened the door, and then he kicked more burning to clear the way, stepping over the rest of the men who were trying to grab the house.He grabbed Ned Beaumont by the collar and dragged him out of the room.
Outside, Jeff still had his hands on Ned Beaumont by the back of his collar, and kicked his heels to drive him down the hallway and across an open porch.
"I'm coming back to bite off one of your ears, you bastard," Jeff yelled at him, kicked him again, and retreated back into the hallway, slamming the door and locking it with the key.
After being kicked into the room, Ned Beaumont held on to a table to keep from falling.He straightened up a little and looked around.The towel was now wrapped around his neck and shoulders like a scarf.There were two windows in the room, and he walked to the one closest to him, tried to push it, and the window locked.He let go of the lock and pushed the window up.It was already night outside, and one of his legs was across the ledge, then the other.Then he turned over, with his stomach facing down against the window sill, and slowly lowered his body until he was hanging in the air by holding onto the window sill with both hands.He dipped his feet down for support, but there was nothing underneath.He let go and fell down.
Notes:
Notes: