Chapter 14
Climbing out of the old Chevy, Geech walked back to the dirt road and looked up and down it; then he came back to the car and helped Scarpo pile some more brush around it.
Scarpo said, "Drag a bush over the tire tracks, too. Then we check over the guns and figure how we're goin' to come up on them."
"Regular little old cowboy, ain't you?" Geech said. "You learn' all these hillbilly tricks from the Indians?"
Bringing a suitcase out of the back seat, Scarpo opened it and took out a short leather case. Putting the bag on the hood of the car, Scarpo opened the case and took out a gunstock. Working deftly, knowingly, he fitted the stock to a blued receiver and barrel; next came the telescopic sight, its delicate lenses covered by soft leather protectors. He swung it to his shoulder, checked the balance again, lowered the short carbine to load its clip. It took thirty rounds.
Geech said, "I never saw a guy use no carbine before," when the other man didn't answer, dug out his own luggage. He found his pistol, a forty-four magnum with a six-inch barrel, and stuck it into his belt, pulling his summer shirt out over the butt. "A hundred thou in bills-how much of a bundle does it make?"
"Smaller than you think," Scarpo said. "Now all we got to do is cross the road and move along in the trees to some kind of path. The grocery guy said somewhere along here. Shit-what's somebody want to live away the hell out here for?"
"Maybe they never rented no cabin."
"They never come back into town, did they? They're out here, and we're going to find 'em."