That's perfectly all right," the grandmother said. "Maybe Bailey has an extra shirt in his
suitcase."
"I'll look and see terrectly," The Misfit said.
"Where are they taking him?" the children's mother screamed.
"Daddy was a card himself," The Misfit said. "You couldn't put anything over on him. He never
got in trouble with the Authorities though. Just had the knack of handling them."
"You could be honest too if you'd only try," said the grandmother. "Think how wonderful it
would be to settle down and live a comfortable life and not have to think about somebody
chasing you all the time."
The Misfit kept scratching in the ground with the butt of his gun as if he were thinking about it.
"Yestm, somebody is always after you," he murmured.
The grandmother noticed how thin his shoulder blades were just behind his hat because she was
standing up looking down on him. "Do you every pray?" she asked.
He shook his head. All she saw was the black hat wiggle between his shoulder blades. "Nome,"
he said.
There was a pistol shot from the woods, followed closely by another. Then silence. The old
lady's head jerked around. She could hear the wind move through the tree tops like a long
satisfied insuck of breath. "Bailey Boy!" she called.