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lack shirt and a pale yellow scarf was fumbling magazines at the rack。 He didn't look like a gunman。
I pulled the booth shut and picked up the phone and said： 〃A rat was gnawing my foot。 It's all right now。 You got it back； you said。 Just like that。 How？〃
〃I hope you are not too disappointed；〃 she said in her unpromising baritone。 〃The circumstances are a little difficult。 I may decide to explain and I may not。 You may call at the house tomorrow morning。 Since I do not wish to proceed with the investigation； you will keep the retainer as payment in full。〃
〃Let me get this straight；〃 I said。 〃You actually got the coin backnot a promise of it； merely？〃
〃Certainly not。 And I'm getting tired。 So； if you〃
〃One moment； Mrs。 Murdock。 It isn't going to be as simple as all that。 Things have happened。〃
〃In the morning you may tell me about them；〃 she said sharply； and hung up。
I pushed out of the booth and lit a cigarette with thick awkward fingers。 I went back along the store。 The druggist was alone now。 He was sharpening a pencil with a small knife； very intent； frowning。
〃That's a nice sharp pencil you have there；〃 I told him。 He looked up； surprised。 The girls at the pinball machine looked at me； surprised。 I went over and looked at myself in the mirror behind the counter。 I looked surprised。
I sat down on one of the stools and said： 〃A double Scotch； straight。〃
The counter man looked surprised。 〃Sorry； this isn't a bar； sir。 You can buy a bottle at the liquor counter。〃
〃So it is；〃 I said。 〃I mean； so it isn't。 I've had a shock。 I'm a little dazed。 Give me a cup of coffee； weak； and a very thin ham sandwich on stale bread。 No； I better not eat yet either。 Good…by。〃
I got down off the stool and walked to the door in a silence that was as loud as a ton of coal going down a chute。 The man in the black shirt and yellow scarf was sneering at me over the New Republic。
〃You ought to lay off that fluff and get your teeth into something solid； like a pulp magazine；〃 I told him； just to be friendly。
I went on out。 Behind me somebody said： 〃Hollywood's full of them。〃
14
The wind had risen and had a dry taut feeling； tossing the tops of trees； and making the swung arc light up the side street cast shadows like crawling lava。 I turned the car and drove east again。
The hock shop was on Santa Monica； near Wilcox； a quiet old…fashioned little place； washed gently by the lapping waves of time。 In the front window there was everything you could think of； from a set of trout flies in a thin wooden box to a portable organ； from a folding baby carriage to a portrait camera with a four…inch lens； from a mother…of…pearl lorgnette in a faded plush case to a Single Action Frontier Colt； 。44 caliber； the model they still make for Western peace officers whose grandfathers taught them how to file the trigger and shoot by fanning the hammer back。
I went into the shop and a bell jangled over my head and somebody shuffled and blew his nose far at the back and steps came。 An old Jew in a tall black skull cap came along behind the counter； smiling at me over cut out glasses。
I got my tobacco pouch out； got the Brasher Doubloon out of that and laid it on the counter。 The window in front was clear glass and I felt naked。 No paneled cubicles with handcarved spittoons and doors that locked themselves as you closed them。
The Jew took the coin and lifted it on his hand。 〃Gold； is it？ A gold hoarder you are maybe；〃 he said； twinkling。
〃Twenty…five dollars；〃 I said。 〃The wife and the kiddies are hungry。〃
〃Oi； that is terrible。 Gold； it feels； by the weight。 Only gold and maybe platinum it could be。〃 He weighed it casually on a pair of small scales。 〃Gold it is；〃 he said。 〃So ten dollars you are wanting？〃
〃Twenty…five dollars。〃
〃For twenty…five dollars what would I do with it？ Sell it； maybe？ For fifteen dollars worth of gold is maybe in it。 Okay。 Fifteen dollars。〃
〃You got a good safe？〃
〃Mister； in this business are the best safes money can buy。 Nothing to worry about here。 It is fifteen dollars； is it？〃
〃Make out the ticket。〃
He wrote it out partly with his pen and partly with his tongue。 I gave my true name and address。 Bristol Apartments； 1634 North Bristol Avenue； Hollywood。
〃You are living in that district and you are borrowing fifteen dollars；〃 the Jew said sadly； and tore off my half of the ticket and counted out the money。
I walked down to the corner drugstore and bought an envelope and borrowed a pen and mailed the pawnticket to myself。
I was hungry and hollow inside。 I went over to Vine to eat； and after that I drove downtown again。 The wind was still rising and it was drier than ever。 The steering wheel had a gritty feeling under my fingers and the inside of my nostrils felt tight and drawn。
The lights were on here and there in the tall buildings。 The green and chromium clothier's store on the corner of Ninth and Hill was a blaze of it。 In the Belfont Building a few windows glowed here and there； but not many。 The same old plowhorse sat in the elevator on his piece of folded burlap； looking straight in front of him； blank…eyed； almost gathered to history。
I said： 〃I don't suppose you know where I can get in touch with the building superintendent？〃
He turned his head slowly and looked past my shoulder。 〃I hear how in Noo York they got elevators that just whiz。 Go thirty floors at a time。 High speed。 That's in Noo York。〃
〃The hell with New York；〃 I said。 〃I like it here。〃
〃Must take a good man to run them fast babies。〃
〃Don't kid yourself； dad。 All those cuties do is push buttons； say 'Good Morning； Mr。 Whoosis；' and look at their beauty spots in the car mirror。 Now you take a Model T job like thisit takes a man to run it。 Satisfied？〃
〃I work twelve hours a day；〃 he said。 〃And glad to get it。〃
〃Don't let the union hear you。〃
〃You know what the union can do？〃 I shook my head。 He told me。 Then he lowered his eyes until they almost looked at me。 〃Didn't I see you before somewhere？〃
〃About the building super；〃 I said gently。
〃Year ago he broke his glasses；〃 the old man said。 〃I could of laughed。 Almost did。〃
〃Yes。 Where could I get in touch with him this time of the evening？〃
He looked at me a little more directly。
〃Oh； the building super？ He's home； ain't he？〃
〃Sure。 Probably。 Or gone to the pictures。 But where is home？ What's his name？〃
〃You want something？〃
〃Yes。〃 I squeezed a fist in my pocket and tried to keep from yelling。 〃I want the address of one of the tenants。 The tenant I want the address of isn't in the phone bookat his home。 I mean where he lives when he's not in his office。 You know； home。〃 I took my hands out and made a shape in the air； writing the letters slowly； h o m e。
The old man said： 〃Which one？〃 It was so direct that it jarred me。
〃Mr。 Morningstar。〃
〃He ain't home。 Still in his office。〃
〃Are you sure？〃
〃Sure I'm sure。 I don't notice people much。 But he's old like me and I notice him。 He ain't been down yet。〃
I got into the car and said： 〃Eight。〃
He wrestled the doors shut and we ground our way up。 He didn't look at me a