Chapter III

12

STRANGE FISH

Paris met Johnny Toms' puzzled glance. She could see Johnny's face in the flashlight glow. She shook her head. Belonesox. What was it?

“Bobby−sox,” Johnny Toms said. “Any particular gal you mean?”

The man's eyes suddenly closed. His lids just dropped, and remained down.

He spelled it out for them. “B−e−l−o−n−e−s−o−x,” he spelled.

Again Johnny glanced at Paris. She shook her head.

“What's it?” Johnny asked the man.

The man's lips came off his teeth. Not a smile.

“Don't waste time lying,” he said.

“Look, we came after the fat man,” Johnny Toms said. “What's his name—the fat man's name?”

The man sitting against the tent pole didn't answer. He kept his eyes closed.

Johnny Toms scowled.

“Ben Watt,” he said. “Is that his name?”

The man opened his eyes. His eyes had changed. They looked as if there were a gray film over them.

“The belonesox,” he said. “My God, we know you got it. But what did you do with it?”

Johnny Toms lost his temper. He stepped into the tent. He said, “Podner, I don't get all this. You better start talking at the beginning.”

“He left me here,” the man said.

“Who did?”

“The fat man.”

“Why?”

“I was dead,” the man said.

He turned his head a little, very slowly. His tongue appeared between his lips, not as if he was licking his lips, but as if the tongue were hanging out. His head skidded off the tent pole, followed by his shoulders. He sprawled out on the earth. His eyes remained open.

Johnny Toms sank beside the man quickly. He grabbed the man's wrist and felt for a pulse. He pulled the man's coat open and gave one glance.

“God!” he said.