Michael Malone - Weebly

out riding around here on that motorbike this time of the
night anyhow. Everybody go on." The old man stuffed
his hands down in the pockets of the enormous shabby
bathrobe he'd grabbed when he'd run over from next
door as soon as Ernest Ransom had phoned. Mrs.
Troyes was in a bathrobe, too. She held the hem away
from the dew as she went away with Arthur Abernathy
across the lawn.
"Just a minute, Sammy." Scaper called back the
pharmacist, who wore a raincoat over his pajamas.
"Give me a match. Well, thanks for helping out. I swear,
some folks hear a siren and they act like they got an
invitation to a fair." Finally the doctor found a cigar butt
in his bag; he wiped it on his robe and lit it. "Goddamnit
to hell."
The two men stood beneath the stars. After a long
silence, Scaper threw the cigar into the gutter. "Well, let
me go check on that boy. You got any Seconal,
Nembutal, something?"
"At the pharmacy."
"What'd you say? Speak up."
"No. Not here. Ah, wait a minute. Priss Ransom