“The blood ecrusted right sleeve of Blake's tunic hung limp and empty at his side. His arm was in a sling across his chest. “Checking out, ma'am,” Steele told the over-painted madam behind tile desk. “Look, Blakey,” Clancy said earnestly. “You made your mind up by telling the dame she could get lost. It's a lousy army, anyway. With the war over, what's the goddamn point? You're likely to get shipped out to some crummy patch of desert and get your hair lifted by a crazy drunk Indian.” Steele had ...to pay for the greasy meal he had been served shortly after he arived at the hotel the previous night. “But the pay's regular,” Blake argued, wanting to be convinced. Steele told the madam he would pass up breakfast. Clancy snorted. “It's so frigging small they can afford to give it to you regular. Why, I hear that in Texas a man can—” Mona's scream carried clearly across the sunlit plaza. Steele calmly pocketed the loose change given him by the madam as she and the two troopers swung around to look out through the open doors.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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