Bond took the wedges from him. ‘But…’
‘Cain’t help yuh no more, Sah,’ said the negro with finality, his hand on the door. ‘Ef yuh ring fo me dis evenin’, Ah’ll fetch yo dinner. Doan yuh go lettin’ any person else in the room.’
His hand came out to take the twenty-dollar bill. He crumpled it into his pocket.
‘Ah’ll do all Ah can, Sah,’ he said. ‘But dey’ll git me ef Ah don’ watch it. Sho will.’ He went out and quickly shut the door behind him.
Bond thought for a moment then he opened the communicating door. Solitaire was reading.
‘He’s fixed everything,’ he said. ‘Took a long time about it. Wanted to tell me all his life-story as well. I’ll keep out of your way until you’ve climbed up to your nest. Call me when you’re ready.’
He sat down next door in the seat she had left and watched the grim suburbs of Philadelphia showing their sores, like beggars, to the rich train.
No object in frightening her until it had to be. But the new threat had come sooner than he expected, and her danger if the watcher on the train discovered her identity would be as great as his.
She called and he went in.
The room was in darkness save for his bed-light, which she had turned on.
‘Sleep well,’ she said.
Bond got out of his coat. He quietly slipped the wedges firmly under both doors. Then he lay down carefully on his right side on the comfortable bed and without a thought for the future fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the pounding gallop of the train.
A few cars away, in the deserted diner, a negro waiter read again what he had written on a telegraph blank and waited for the ten-minute stop at Philadelphia.
CHAPTER XI
ALLUMEUSE
THE crack train thundered on through the bright afternoon towards the south. They left Pennsylvania behind, and Maryland. There came a long halt at Washington, where Bond heard through his dreams the measured clang of the warning bells on the shunting engines and the soft think-speak of the public-address system on the station. Then on into Virginia. Here the air was already softer and the dusk, only five hours away from the bright frosty breath of New York, smelled almost of spring.
An occasional group of negroes, walking home from the fields, would hear the distant rumble on the silent sighing silver rails and one would pull out his watch and consult it and announce, ‘Hyah comes da Phantom. Six o’clock. Guess ma watch is right on time.’
‘Sho nuff,’ one of the others would say as the great beat of the Diesels came nearer and the lighted coaches streaked past and on towards North Carolina.
They awoke around seven to the hasty ting of a grade-crossing alarm bell as the big train nosed its way out of the fields into the suburbs of Raleigh. Bond pulled the wedges from under the doors before he turned on the lights and rang for the attendant.
He ordered dry Martinis and when the two little ‘personalized’ bottles appeared with the glasses and the ice they seemed so inadequate that he at once ordered four more.
They argued over the menu. The fish was described as being ‘Made From Flaky Tender Boneless Filets’ and the chicken as ‘Delicious French Fried to a Golden Brown, Served Disjointed’.
‘Eyewash,’ said Bond, and they finally ordered scrambled eggs and bacon and sausages, a salad, and some of the domestic Camembert that is one of the most welcome surprises on American menus.
It was nine o’clock when Baldwin came to clear the dishes away. He asked if there was anything else they wanted.
Bond had been thinking. ‘What time do we get into Jacksonville?’ he asked.
‘Aroun’ five ‘n the morning, Suh.’
‘Is there a subway on the platform?’
‘Yassuh. Dis cyar stops right alongside.’
‘Gould you have the door open and the steps down pretty quick?’
The negro smiled. ‘Yassuh. Ah kin take good care of that.’
Bond slipped him a ten-dollar bill. ‘Just in case I miss you when we arrive in St. Petersburg,’ he said.
The negro grinned. ‘Ah greatly preeshiate yo kindness, Suh. Good night, Suh. Good night, Mam.’