ing to come up, still holding onto the Luger, only he couldn’t get his head up, when the nigger took the shotgun that was lying against the wheel of the car by the chauffeur and blew the side of his head off. Some nigger.
I took a quick one out of the first bottle I saw open and I couldn’t tell you yet what it was. The whole thing made me feel pretty bad. I slipped along behind the bar and out through the kitchen in back and all the way out. I went clean around the outside of the square and never even looked over toward the crowd there was coming fast in front of the café and went in through the gate and out onto the dock and got on board.
The fellow who had her chartered was on board waiting. I told him what had happened.
“Where’s Eddy?” this fellow Johnson that had us chartered asked me.
“I never saw him after the shooting started.” “Do you suppose he was hit?”
“Hell, no. I tell you the only shots that came in the café were into the show case. That was when the car was coming behind them. That was when they shot the first fellow right in front of the window.
They came at an angle like this-”
“You seem awfully sure about it,” he said.
“I was watching,” I told him.
Then, as I looked up, I saw Eddy coming along
