Dickerson said. “For God’s sake, let’s get going!” “No,” Blake said. “Not so fast. There’s going to be a delay, Dickerson. You might as well make up your mind to that.” “A delay?” Dickerson’s voice shook. “How long?” Blake thought a moment. “We can’t leave here for two hours.” “Two hours?” Dickerson’s voice rose into a wail. “Every minute counts. Do you think they’re not looking for us right now?” “I can’t help it. You want me to get you out of Gulf City and on the way out of Florida. Bight? Then you’re going to have to do it my way. Relax, Dickerson. Sam won’t let Arrenhower get you, will you, Sam?” Sam grinned widely. “Who this Arrenhower?” he said. “Use your phone, Sam?” Blake said. “Sure, Mistuh Steve. Help yourself.” “It’s long distance,” Blake said, dialing the operator. “Better give Sam ten dollars, Dickerson.” When the gray-headed man hesitated, Blake’s voice went hard. “Your money is not going to do you any good if you’re caught, Dickerson.
