Girl Out Back - Charles Williams(8)

“Oh,” I said. “Something like that. It’s indefinite yet.”
“Well, you’re in, boy. With the send-off I gave you, you
can have Hoover’s job. You think that boy’s not honest, I
said, there’s been a paved street in front of his house for
two years now, and the last time I looked it was still
there. . . .”
“You’re a real pal,” I said. I put a dime on the counter
and went out, feeling uneasy for no reason I could pin
down. Ramsey didn’t have anything to work on. That’s the
reason he was poking around here asking silly questions.
He was outside in the cold; the moat was filled and the
drawbridge was up. But still I didn’t like it; he made me
nervous with that knack he had of seeming to be there at
my elbow every time I turned around, as if ubiquity were
an end in itself. What was the name of that Russian
Girl Out Back— 158
detective in Crime and Punishment? Rock. Something like
rock.

Girl Out Back - Charles Williams(7)

I looked at him quickly. He was still staring down at the
broom. Well, there was Sunday. I could tell him that was
when I’d been out there. Then I realized it was no use. Otis
knew I’d lied about Sumner Lake. But why was he trying to
tell me?
I made no reply. There appeared to be a shortage at the
moment.
“Uh, boss,” he went on hesitantly, “about that twelve
dollars a week you pay me. How much of that would you
say was for personal advice?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “You break it down.”
“Well, look. I won a prize once for minding my own
business. A whole new bedroom slipper—I think it was the
left one. You say the word and I’ll keep right on after the
other one.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “Spill it.”

Girl Out Back - Charles Williams(6)

He sprang over and knelt beside me. “Hey, Mr. Ward.
Are you okay?”
I pushed myself to my hands and knees. “I’m all right,” I
said. “I just forgot about that damned hole.”
“Here. Let me help you up.” He took hold of my arm.
I tried to stand. The moment I put my right foot on the
ground I sucked my breath in sharply and collapsed.
Drawing a sleeve across my face to wipe off the sweat and
dirt, I said shakily, “It’s my ankle. Wait a minute.”
He watched as I unlaced my shoe. I grimaced
realistically as I pulled it off and felt the ankle and foot.
“It’s hot,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s broken. Probably
just a bad sprain.”
“You think you can walk on it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Wait till I get my breath and I’ll
try again.”
I did, and gave an even better performance. “No use,” I
said.
“Mebbe I could cut you something for a crutch.”

Girl Out Back - Charles Williams(5)

the station wagon, I ate the sandwich and drank some
coffee, and then sat smoking and thinking about it. The
first thing I had to do was get back in the cabin. Today, if
possible, for it would save a trip, and I was afire with
impatience. Maybe my luck would hold and he’d go out
fishing again in the afternoon. I returned to the point and
waited. Hours went by. Finally, a little after five in the
afternoon, I heard his motor start and he came out of the
cove. He went on up toward the bend at the far end of the
reach; maybe he’d found good fishing there this morning. I
slipped through the timber, and when I reached the
clearing I could still hear his motor fading away in the
distance.
I entered the cabin, beginning to feel at home in the
place now. The glasses he’d had on were atop the chest of
drawers, where they had been before.