d more watery pus ran out when I did。 My midsection clenched up and I started making this gurk…gurk noise。 I couldn't help it。
'e on；' she says； kind of smiling。 'If you're man enough to pull the trigger； you're man enough to deal with a hole。' Then she sewed him up with these big； looping overhand strokes…really punching the needle in。 After the first two； I couldn't look。
'Thank you；' Johnnie told her when it was done。 'I want you to know I'm going to take care of you for this。'
'Don't go getting your hopes up；' she says。 'I wouldn't give him one chance in twenty。'
'He'll pull through now；' Johnnie says。
Then Dock and Volney rushed back in。 Behind them was another member of the gang…Buster Daggs or Draggs； I can't remember which。 Anyway； he'd been down to the phone they used at the Cities Service station in town； and he said the Gees had been busy back in Chicago； arresting anyone and everyone they thought might be connected to the Bremer kidnapping； which had been the Barker Gang's last big job。 One of the fellas they took was John J。 （Boss） McLaughlin； a high mucky…muck in the Chicago political machine。 Another was Dr。 Joseph Moran； also known as the Crybaby。
'Moran'll give this place up； just as sure as shit sticks to a blanket；' Volney says。
'Maybe it's not even true；' Johnnie says。 Jack was unconscious now。 His red hair lay on the pillow like little pieces of wire。 'Maybe it's just a rumor。'
'You better not believe that；' Buster says。 'I got it from Timmy O'Shea。'
'Who's Timmy O'Shea？ The Pope's butt…wiper？' Johnnie says。
'He's Moran's nephew；' Dock says； and that kind of sealed the deal。
'I know what you're thinking； handsome；' Rabbits says to John…nie； 'and you can stop thinking it right now。 You put this fella in a car and go bumping him over those back roads between here and St。 Paul； he'll be dead by morning。'
'You could leave him；' Volney says。 'The cops show up； they'll have to take care of him。'
Johnnie sat there； sweat running down his face in streams。 He looked tired； but he was smiling。 Johnnie was always able to find a smile。 'They'd take care of him； all right；' he says； 'but they wouldn't take him to any hospital。 Stick a pillow over his face and sit down on it； most likely。' Which gave me a start； as I'm sure you'll understand。
'Well； you better decide；' Buster says； 'because they'll have this joint surrounded by dawn。 I'm getting the hell out。'
'You all go；' Johnnie says。 'You； too； Homer。 I'll stay here with Jack。'
'Well； what the hell；' Dock says。 'I'll stay； too。'
'Why not？' Volney Davis says。
Buster Daggs or Draggs looked at them like they was crazy； but you know what？ I wasn't surprised a bit。 That's just the effect Johnnie had on people。
'I'll stay； too；' I says。
'Well； I'm getting out；' Buster says。
'Fine；' Dock says。 'Take Rabbits with you。'
'The hell you say；' Rabbits pipes up。 'I feel like cooking。'
'Have you gone cuckoo？' Dock asks her。 'It's one o'clock in the morning； and you're in blood right up to the elbows。'
'I don't care what time it is； and blood washes off；' she says。 'I'm making you boys the biggest breakfast you ever ate…eggs； bacon； biscuits； gravy； hash browns。'
'I love you； marry me；' Johnnie says； and we all laughed。
'Oh； hell；' Buster says。 'If there's breakfast； I'll hang around。'
Which is how we all wound up staying put in that Aurora farmhouse； ready to die for a man who was already…whether Johnnie liked it or not…on his way out。 We barricaded the front door with a sofa and some chairs； and the back door with the gas stove； which didn't work anyway。 Only the woodstove worked。 Me and Johnnie got our tommy guns from the Ford； and Dock got some more from the attic。 Also a crate of grenades； a mortar； and a crate of mortar shells。 I bet the Army didn't have as much stuff in those parts as we did。 Ha…ha！
'Well； I don't care how many of them we get； as long as that son of a bitch Melvin Purvis is one of them；' Dock says。 By the time Rabbits actually got the grub on the table； it was almost the time farmers eat。 We took it in shifts； two men always watching the long driveway。 Buster raised the alarm once and we all rushed to our places； but it was only a milk truck on the main road。 The Gees never came。 You could call that bad info； I called it more of John Dillinger's luck。
Jack； meanwhile； was on his not…so…merry way from bad to worse。 By midafternoon of the next day； even Johnnie must have seen he couldn't go on much longer； although he wouldn't e right out and say so。 It was the woman I felt bad for。 Rabbits seen new pus oozing out between those big black stitches of hers； and she started crying。 She just cried and cried。 It was like she'd known Jack Hamilton her whole life。
'Never mind；' Johnnie said。 'Chin up； beautiful。 You did the best you could。 Besides； he might still e around。'
'It's cause I took the bullet out with my fingers；' she says。 'I never should have done that。 I knew better。'
'No；' I says； 'it wasn't that。 It was the gangrene。 The gangrene was already in there。'
'Bullshit；' Johnnie said； and looked at me hard。 'An infection； maybe； but no gangrene。 There isn't any gangrene now。'
You could smell it in the pus。 There wasn't nothing to say。
Johnnie was still looking at me。 'Remember what Harry used to call you when we were in Pendleton？'
I nodded。 Harry Pierpont and Johnnie were always the best of friends； but Harry never liked me。 If not for Johnnie； he never would've taken me into the gang； which was the Pierpont Gang to begin with； remember。 Harry thought I was a fool。 That was another thing Johnnie would never admit； or even talk about。 Johnnie wanted everyone to be friends。
'I want you to go out and wrangle up some big uns；' Johnnie says； 'just like you used to when you was on the Pendleton mat。 Some big old buzzers。' When he asked for that； I knew he finally understood Jack was finished。
Fly…Boy was what Harry Pierpont used to call me at Pendleton Reformatory； when we were all just kids and I used to cry myself to sleep with my head under my pillow so the screws wouldn't hear。 Well； Harry went on and rode the lightning in Ohio State； so maybe I wasn't the only fool。
Rabbits was in the kitchen； cutting up vegetables for supper。 Something was simmering on the stove。 I asked her if she had thread； and she said I knew goddam well she did； hadn't I been right beside her when she sewed up my friend？ You bet； I said； but that was black and I wanted white。 Half a dozen pieces； about so long。 And I held out my index fingers maybe eight inches apart。 She wanted to know what I was going to do。 I told her that if she was that curious she could watch right out the window over the sink。
'Ain't nothing out there but the privy；' she says。 'I got no interest in watching you do your personal business； Mr。 Van Meter。'
She had a bag hanging on the pantry door； and she rummaged through it and came out with a spool of white thread and cut me off six pieces。 I thanked her kindly and then asked if she had a Band…Aid。 She took some out of the drawer right beside the sink…because； she said； she was always cutting her fingers。 I took one； then went to the door。
I got in Pendleton for robbing wallets off the New York Central line with that same Charlie Makley…small world； ain't it？ Ha！ Anyhow； when it e to ways of keeping the bad boys busy； the reformatory at Pendleton； Indiana； was loaded。 They had a laundry； a carpentry shop； and a clothes factory where the dubs made shirts and pants； mostly for the guards in the Indiana penal system。 Some called it the shirt shop； some called it the shit shop。 That's what I drew…and met both Johnnie and Harry Pierpont。 Johnnie and Harry never had any problem 'making the day；' but I was always ing up ten shirts short； or five pairs of trousers short； and being made to stand on the mat。 The screws thought it was because I was always clowning around。 Harry thought the same thing。 The truth was that I was slow； and clumsy…which Johnnie seemed to understand。 That was why I played around。
If you didn't make your day； you had to spend the next day in the guardhouse； where there was a rush mat； about two feet square。 You had to take off everything but your socks and then stand there all day。 If you stepped off the mat once； you got your ass paddled。 If you stepped off twice； a screw held you while another worked you over。 Step off a third time and it was a week in solitary。 You were allowed all the water you wanted to drink； but that was a trick； because you were allowed only one toilet break in the course of the day。 If you were caught standing there with piss running down your leg； you got a beating and a trip to the hole。
It was boring。 Boring at Pendleton； boring at Michigan City； I…God's prison for big boys。 Some fellows told themselves stories。 Some fellows sang。 Some made lists of all the women they were going to screw when they got out。
Me； I taught myself to rope flies。
A privy's a damned fine place for fly…roping。 I took up my station outside the door； then proceeded to make loops in the pieces of thread Rabbits had given