Cast a Yellow Shadow Read Free

realm. After the story appeared in the Frankfurt paper, Fredl sent him a copy. The story was in German, but Hardman had had it translated and then dropped around the saloon carrying a couple of dozen long-stemmed roses for my wife. He had been a regular customer since and I patronized his bookie operation. Hardman liked to show the translation of the feature to friends and point out that he should be regarded as a celebrity of international note.
    Holding three drinks in one giant hand, he moved over to Betty and served her and then handed one to me.
    â€œDid my partner come off a ship?” I asked.
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œWhich one?”
    â€œFlyin a Liberian flag and believe it or not was out of Monrovia. She’s called the Frances Jane and was carryin cocoa mostly.”
    â€œMush wasn’t picking up a pound of cocoa.”
    â€œWell, it was a little more’n a pound.”
    â€œHow’d it happen?”
    â€œMush was waitin to meet somebody off that boat and was just hangin around waitin for him when the two of them jumped him. Next thing he knows he’s lyin down and this friend of yours has done stepped in and was mixin with both of them. He doin fine till they start with the knives. One of them gets your friend in the ribs and by then Mush is back up and saps one of them and then they both take off. Your friend’s down and out so Mush goes through his pockets and comes up with your address and calls me. I tell him to hang around to see if he can make his meet and if he don’t connect in ten minutes, to come back to Washington and bring the white boy with him. He bled some on Mush’s car.”
    â€œTell him to send me a bill.”
    â€œShit, man, I didn’t mean it like that.”
    â€œI didn’t think you did.”
    â€œMush’ll be back in a little while. He’ll take you and your buddy down to the hotel.”
    â€œFine.”
    I got up and walked back into the bedroom. Padillo was still lying quietly in the bed. I stood there looking at him, holding my drink and smoking a cigarette. He stirred and opened his eyes. He saw me, nodded carefully, and then moved his eyes around the room.
    â€œNice bed,” he said.
    â€œHave a good nap?”
    â€œPleasant. How bad am I?”
    â€œYou’ll be O.K. Where’ve you been?”
    He smiled slightly, licked his lips, and sighed. “Out of town,” he said.
    Hardman and I helped Padillo to dress. He had a white shirt that had been washed but not ironed, a pair of khaki pants in the same condition, a Navy pea jacket, and black shoes with white cotton socks.
    â€œWho’s your new tailor?” I asked.
    Padillo glanced down at his clothes. “Little informal, huh?”
    â€œBetty washed ’em out in her machine,” Hardman said. “Blood hadn’t dried too much, so it came out easy. Didn’t get a chance to iron em.”
    â€œWho’s Betty?”
    â€œYou’ve been sleeping in her bed,” I said.
    â€œThank her for me.”
    â€œShe’s in the next room. You can thank her yourself.”
    â€œCan you walk?” Hardman said.
    â€œIs there a drink in the next room along with Betty?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œI can walk.”
    He could, although he moved slowly. I carried the forbidden shoes. Padillo paused at the door and put one hand on the jamb to brace himself. Then he walked on into the livingroom. “Thanks for the use of your bed, Betty,” he said to the tall brown girl.
    â€œYou’re welcome. How you feel?”
    â€œA little rocky, but I think it’s mostly dope. Who bandaged me?”
    â€œDoctor.”
    â€œHe give me a shot?”
    â€œUh-huh. Should be bout worn off.”
    â€œJust about is.”
    â€œMan wants a drink,” Hardman said. “What you like?”
    â€œScotch, if you have it,” Padillo said.
    Hardman poured a generous drink and handed it to Padillo. “How’s