CHAPTER V
ALL CHANGEI felt . . . well, I don’t know how I felt; but whatever Steeley’s reaction was he didn’t turn a hair. He glanced at the barman. “Two bottles of beer,” he ordered casually. Then he turned to mine host, who was regarding him with an expressionless face. “Good evening,” he said cheerfully.
The Boss nodded, but I noticed that he was not looking at us. He was looking past us, and when, an instant later, the two men who had been sitting down got up and joined us at the bar, one on each side, I knew that in some way he had called them over, and that they were not the quiet, inoffensive customers they appeared to be.
My greatest desire at that moment was to rush out of the place and seek safety in flight, but I had to wait for Steeley’s lead. What would he do? That we were
