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Updated: May 3, 2025
Whattirya goin' ta do?" "Don't get excited, Shorty, I see my way out," said Link affably, "I didn't come off here half cocked. I investigated before I took on the job." "Whaddaya mean?" "Well, I just looked up the parties in the blue book before I come off. Didn't have much time, but I just looked 'em up. Great thing that blue book. Gives ya lots of information.
"Who put youse jerry to all dat?" inquired the first tramp, skeptically. "I was in de still wit 'im he croaked some guy. He's a lifer. On de way to de pen he pushes dis dick off'n de rattler an' makes his get-away. Dat peter-boy we meets at Quincy slips me an earful about him. Here's w'ere we draws down de five hundred if we're cagey." "Whaddaya mean, cagey?"
You pointed to something and asked a native, and he'd gargle a mouthful of syllables at you, which might only mean, "Whaddaya wanna know for?" and you took it down in phonetic alphabet and the whatzit had a name. But on Zarathustra, there were no natives to ask. So this was a Little Fuzzy. "What would you like to eat, Little Fuzzy?" he asked.
"It's about time you showed up!" growled Loring. "Whaddaya trying to do, starve us to death?" "That's not a bad idea!" said Roger. Loring took the tray. Roger motioned him back inside the brig and slammed the door shut. He locked it and leaned against the grille. "Better eat it while you can," he said. "They don't serve it so fancy on a prison asteroid."
But Pat slid heavily down to the little clearing below him, fumbled a moment with his key, and then in a gruff guarded voice called: "Hullo! Hullo! Sam? That you? Yes, aw'right! Yes, aw'right! How's things? What? Hell's to pay? Whaddaya mean hell? Ain't you gonta put it over? After all my trouble you ain't a gonta let that million slip through? What? Oh! Who? The Valet? He's beat it, has he?
He went on to tell Belsely what had happened the day before, pledging him to quiet for a few days at least to give them a chance to solve the puzzle that remained. The farmer was delighted. "This will give me a tale to tell from now on! Once you say I'm free to talk, that is. Well, whaddaya know!
"Hurry up, finish the hand. Got to get my beauty sleep." "Whaddaya mean, hurry up," said Bernie, "you're into me for fifteen bucks." "Get it back from Hank here," the reporter said. He nodded at the newcomer, "Want this hand? You're fourteen points down. Lover boy's got sixty-eight on game, but you're a box up." "Sure," said Tilton. He took the cards. The morning news reporters left.
Whaddaya mean? He took 'em? He took the pearls an' diamonds? Well, Em'ruls then! What's tha diffrunce? We ain't gottum have we? Oh, bonds too! Well, whattya gonta do about it? Move him? What, the rich guy? Move him where? Why? We ain'ta gonta run no more risks. Link an' Shorty are sore 'za pup when they come. I don't think they'll stan' for it. Well, where'll ya move him? Who? Shorty? Oh, Link?
Lemme have the twenty-five, an' you hang around the edges with the rest of 'em 'til I'm done. Whaddaya say?" Pesita was willing to agree to anything, and so it came that half an hour later Billy Byrne was leading a choice selection of some two dozen cutthroats down through the hills toward Cuivaca. While a couple of miles in the rear followed Pesita with the balance of his band.
"Are we going to be hanged instead of being shot?" "We ain't goin' to be either," said Billy, "an' I'm a captain. Whaddaya know about that?" He explained all that had taken place between himself and Pesita while Bridge and Miguel listened attentively to his every word. "I t'ought it was about de only way out fer us," said Billy. "We were in worse than I t'ought."
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