One Endless Hour
Page 17
When the film ran out, I didn't rewind it. I stripped it from the reel, took it into the bathroom, and burned it. It stunk like hell. I flushed the residue down the toilet.
Dahl would probably never forgive me for not burying the reel of film in a pot of flowers and taking it east and putting it on his grave.
Too bad I'm not the sentimental type.
***
So I'm at a loose end right now.
I'm trying to make up my mind what comes next.
There's the Schemer, for one thing. I owe him money. Not 12 1/2 percent of $225,000, since I wound up with nothing, but on the other hand he can't sell the Thornton, Pa., job again. I owe him something, and I don't have it.
I could go to Colorado and dig up the jar at timberline and set myself up so that I could pick and choose on the next job. But I still consider that jar mistake money.
Right this minute I can't seem to make up my mind.
Once in a while I even think I might run up to Ely, Nevada, for a few days and look up Hazel Andrews.
I'll shake myself out of it one of these days, though, and then everything will be back to normal.