smile. "Hi, I knew you'd get loose."
"No thanks to you, you sex maniac."
"Darling! What a thing to say. I risked my life to chase them off and
really
save your honor."
"You might have at least untied me."
"How
did
you get loose?"
"The way you did. Rolled off the bed and ripped skin off my arms scraping the rope on the bed frame." Nick felt a wave of relief. If she had been left behind to close his book she wouldn't have had to get
herself
loose. She continued with a frown, "Jerry Deming, I think I'll leave you right there."
Nick thought rapidly. What would a Deming say in a situation like this? He exploded, "Dammit, Ruthie, enough is enough! Get a knife and cut these ropes now. I'm not fooling. I left you on that bed for your own safety. The only reason I pretended to screw you was to start a noisy fuss. Now you get me loose right
now
or when I do get loose I'll paddle your pretty ass so that you won't sit down for a month and after that I'll forget I ever knew you. What kind of a crazy girl are you..."
He stopped when she laughed and bent down to show him a razor blade she held concealed in her hand. She sliced his fetters carefully. "There, my hero. You were brave. Did you actually attack them barehanded? They might have killed you instead of tying you up."
He rubbed his wrists and felt his jaw. That big fellow Hans packed a wallop! "I keep a pistol hidden in the garage because if the house is burgled I figure there's a chance of it not being found there. I got it and I bagged the three when a fourth one hidden in the bushes got
me.
Then the one called Hans clouted me. Those guys must be real pros. Imagine leaving a picket out? They fooled hell out of me."
"Be thankful they didn't do worse. I imagine your travels in the oil business have gotten you used to violence. You acted without fear, I think. But you can get hurt that way."
He thought,
They train them with cool at Vassar, too, orthere's more to you than meets the eye.
They walked to the house, the lovely girl holding the arm of the naked, powerfully built man. When Nick was stripped he made you think of an athlete in training, a pro footballer perhaps.
He noticed that she kept her eyes averted from his body, as a nice young lady should. Was it an act? He called as he climbed into a pair of plain white boxer shorts, "I'll phone the police. They never catch anybody out here but it'll cover my insurance and maybe they'll keep a closer eye on the joint."
"I called them, Jerry. I can't imagine where they are."
"Depends on where they were. They have three cars for about a hundred square miles. Another martini? ..."
* * *
The officers were sympathetic. Ruth had garbled the call slightly and they had wasted time. They made comments about the large number of burglaries and holdups by city hoodlums. They wrote it up and borrowed his spare keys so that their BCI men could recheck the place in the morning. Nick thought it was a waste of time — and so it proved.
After they had gone he and Ruth had their swim and another drink and danced and cuddled a bit but the zing had gone out of the evening. In spite of her stiff-upper-lip in the pinch, he thought she seemed thoughtful — or nervous. As they swayed in tight embrace on the patio, in time with Armstrong's trumpet on a blue-and-easy number, he kissed her several times but the mood was gone. The lips didn't melt any more, they were flaccid. The beat of her heart and the tempo of her breathing did not accelerate as they did before.
She noticed the difference herself. She took her face away from his, but laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jerry. I guess I'm really timid. I keep thinking about what might have happened. We could be — dead." She shuddered.
"We're not," he replied and squeezed her.
"Would you have really done it?" she asked.
"Done what?"
"On the bed. What the man called Hans — suggested."
"He was being a wise guy and it backfired."
"How?"
"Remember when Sammy yelled for him? He came
"No thanks to you, you sex maniac."
"Darling! What a thing to say. I risked my life to chase them off and
really
save your honor."
"You might have at least untied me."
"How
did
you get loose?"
"The way you did. Rolled off the bed and ripped skin off my arms scraping the rope on the bed frame." Nick felt a wave of relief. If she had been left behind to close his book she wouldn't have had to get
herself
loose. She continued with a frown, "Jerry Deming, I think I'll leave you right there."
Nick thought rapidly. What would a Deming say in a situation like this? He exploded, "Dammit, Ruthie, enough is enough! Get a knife and cut these ropes now. I'm not fooling. I left you on that bed for your own safety. The only reason I pretended to screw you was to start a noisy fuss. Now you get me loose right
now
or when I do get loose I'll paddle your pretty ass so that you won't sit down for a month and after that I'll forget I ever knew you. What kind of a crazy girl are you..."
He stopped when she laughed and bent down to show him a razor blade she held concealed in her hand. She sliced his fetters carefully. "There, my hero. You were brave. Did you actually attack them barehanded? They might have killed you instead of tying you up."
He rubbed his wrists and felt his jaw. That big fellow Hans packed a wallop! "I keep a pistol hidden in the garage because if the house is burgled I figure there's a chance of it not being found there. I got it and I bagged the three when a fourth one hidden in the bushes got
me.
Then the one called Hans clouted me. Those guys must be real pros. Imagine leaving a picket out? They fooled hell out of me."
"Be thankful they didn't do worse. I imagine your travels in the oil business have gotten you used to violence. You acted without fear, I think. But you can get hurt that way."
He thought,
They train them with cool at Vassar, too, orthere's more to you than meets the eye.
They walked to the house, the lovely girl holding the arm of the naked, powerfully built man. When Nick was stripped he made you think of an athlete in training, a pro footballer perhaps.
He noticed that she kept her eyes averted from his body, as a nice young lady should. Was it an act? He called as he climbed into a pair of plain white boxer shorts, "I'll phone the police. They never catch anybody out here but it'll cover my insurance and maybe they'll keep a closer eye on the joint."
"I called them, Jerry. I can't imagine where they are."
"Depends on where they were. They have three cars for about a hundred square miles. Another martini? ..."
* * *
The officers were sympathetic. Ruth had garbled the call slightly and they had wasted time. They made comments about the large number of burglaries and holdups by city hoodlums. They wrote it up and borrowed his spare keys so that their BCI men could recheck the place in the morning. Nick thought it was a waste of time — and so it proved.
After they had gone he and Ruth had their swim and another drink and danced and cuddled a bit but the zing had gone out of the evening. In spite of her stiff-upper-lip in the pinch, he thought she seemed thoughtful — or nervous. As they swayed in tight embrace on the patio, in time with Armstrong's trumpet on a blue-and-easy number, he kissed her several times but the mood was gone. The lips didn't melt any more, they were flaccid. The beat of her heart and the tempo of her breathing did not accelerate as they did before.
She noticed the difference herself. She took her face away from his, but laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jerry. I guess I'm really timid. I keep thinking about what might have happened. We could be — dead." She shuddered.
"We're not," he replied and squeezed her.
"Would you have really done it?" she asked.
"Done what?"
"On the bed. What the man called Hans — suggested."
"He was being a wise guy and it backfired."
"How?"
"Remember when Sammy yelled for him? He came
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