Page 173
By Jack Joseph Smith
Pacing across his shack he stopped. His feet and
mind were suddenly there on the floor and in the
sented air.
He looked back on his portrayal of the gun. (If
this guy wants to be the bank president, if this
guy will be the bank president, then I better be
Jessie James.) He had studied them and an immag--
ination hell bent on convincing before he had st-
ood up to leave. At the door he had turned. "O.K.
this is a gun!" His right hand raised slowly with
a loose gun; as if it were the weight and not the
bullets he were measuring in the thitty-eight empty
from his hand.
He returned acroos the room, his finger pointing
ahead and toward the group of men. The eyes ment
that he had made it into the invisable circular
wall respected beyond their reproach.
He stopped there in his rememberence too and
said, "I could blow your brains out, you know that
don't you!"
He had waited a moment, had let his arm fall,
and begun to walk out in the strut of a dope deal
stolen back. At the door he turned again: "After
all, I did come here to act."
The words; "will give you a call;" were with him
as he walked out his own door, and into a patio of