Rafe and three of his comrades soon appeared, the big man wiping blood from his face and looking very unhappy. He was probably forty or so, a wide man... well-muscled and obviously angry. He wore knee-high boots and a leather waistcoat."I'm goin' to kill you, y'bloody coward," he said, looking at me from the tops of his eyes. "Ain't you got a gun?" Nope," I lied, "what's wrong with fists?" Give the man a pistol," Rafe said, and the skinny fellow beside him produced one and handled it toward me. I. I guess being in nearly perfect physical condition made the difference. I was a little stiff and sore, but not so much that I couldn't function in my normal manner. I asked Joe to bring in the ledger and we laid it out on the table. I knew a little of accounting, so I was able to puzzle out the load shark's affairs. He had been charging 50% interest per week, with a penalty added whenever a customer missed a payment. Dammit, load sharking paid a hell of a lot better than bank robbery! None of. More

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