The Getaway (Read a Great Movie) Read Online Free PDF Page A

watches.
    They formed the ingredients of two incendiary smoke bombs. Doc began to assemble them, first spreading the newspaper out on the bed to protect its coverings. A few fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead. The movements of his fingers were sure, but extremely delicate.
    The dynamite itself-which he sliced into two pieces-he regarded as safe, and a mere quarter-stick of it as virtually harmless (to one familiar with its action) even if exploded. No, dynamite was all right. Dinah was easygoing, tolerating almost anything short of outrage. The danger lay in that cute little black cap she wore when being readied for action. They-the percussion caps-were about the size of an after- dinner mint, and their behavior was anything but good. And tiny as they were, one of them was more than enough to remove a man's hand.
    Doc was glad when his job was finished, glad that he would never again have to take on a similar job. The bombs could have been purchased ready-made, of course, but Doc distrusted the purveyors of such items. They might talk; besides, they lacked the incentive to turn out top-grade merchandise, anything less than which was apt to prove fatal to the purchaser.
    Doc put the bombs in his wastebasket and crumpled the soiled newspaper over them. He scrubbed his hands in the bathroom and turned down the turned-up cuffs of his shirt. For no conscious reason, he sighed.
    He'd been on tougher jobs than this one, but never one where so much depended on its success. Everything he had was on the line here; everything that he and Carol had. He was pushing forty-one. She was almost fourteen years younger. So, one more fall, one more prison stretch and-and that would be that.
    The thoughts stirred muddily in the bottom of his mind. Unrecognized and unadmitted; manifested only in an unconscious sigh.
    He had not taken another look at the bank, since seeing that Rudy and the kid had gotten in all right. He'd had work to do, and there'd been no point in looking. If there was trouble, he'd be able to hear it.
    Now, however, he looked again, and was just in time to see the bank president enter its door. The door closed abruptly, almost catching the heel of his shoe. Doc winced and shook his head, unconsciously as he had sighed.
    It was ten minutes of nine. Doc adjusted his tie and put on his suit jacket. Now it was five minutes of. He picked up the wastebasket and stepped out into the hall.
    He went down the faded red carpet to the end of the hall, then turned right into a short side corridor. A metal trash can stood between the back stairs and the side-street window. Doc poked the papers into the can, idly glancing up and down the street.
    His luck was far better than he could have hoped for.
    A flatbed farm truck was parked rear end first at the curb. Next to it was a sedan, its windows rolled up tightly. But next to them, parked to windward of them, was another truck-loaded almost to the level of the hotel's second-floor windows.
    And what it was loaded with was baled hay!
    Doc gave the street another quick up and down glance. Then he tossed the bombs, lofting one between the truck's cab and bed, the other onto the load of hay.
    He picked up the wastebasket and returned to his room. It was two minutes of nine now-two minutes before the bombs were set to explode-and three or four people were gathered in front of the bank, waiting for it to open.
    Doc completed his arrangements for leaving, slowly counting off the seconds.

4
    The time lock on the bank's vault was set for eight-fifty. Slightly more than ten minutes later, Rudy and Jackson had cleared it of cash- -dollar bills and coins excepted-and several thick packages of negotiable securities.
    The banker lay sprawled on the floor, half-dead from Rudy's pistol-whipping. Stumbling over his unconscious body, Rudy gave him a savage kick in the face, turned half-crazed eyes upon the kid. The fear had filled him now, the furious outraged fear of a cornered rat. It would simmer