sallow face, pocked with the scars of adolescent acne, had taken on a dark flush. "It could be! All the places those crosses are... all that could be Pop's property! Do you see? He might have put all that land in a blind trust or whatever the fuck they call it... so nobody could buy it... so nobody could find what he put there..."
He snorted the rest of the coke on the mirror and then leaned over the counter. His bulging, bloodshot eyes jittered in his face.
"I could be more than just out of the shithole," he said in a low: trembling whisper. "I could be fucking rich."
'Yes," Mr. Gaunt said, "I'd say that's a good possibility. But remember that, Ace." He cocked his thumb toward the wall, and the sign there which read I DO NOT ISSUE REFUNDS OR MAKE EXCHANGES CAVEAT EMPTOR!
Ace looked at the sign. "What's it mean?"
"It means that you're not the first person who ever thought he had found the key to great riches in an old book," Mr. Gaunt said.
"It also means that I still need a stockboy and a driver." Ace looked at him, almost shocked. Then he laughed. "You kidding?" He pointed at the map. "I've got a lot of digging to do."
Mr. Gaunt sighed regretfully, folded the sheet of brown paper, put it back into the book, and placed the book in the drawer under the cash register. He did all this with incredible swiftness.
"Hey!" Ace yelled. "What are you doing?"
"I just remembered that book is already promised to another customer, Mr. Merrill. I'm sorry. And I really am closed-it's Columbus Day, you know."
"Wait a minute!"
"Of course, if you had seen fit to take the job, I'm sure something could have been worked out. But I can see that you're very busy; you undoubtedly want to make sure your affairs are in order before the Corson Brothers turn you into coldcuts."
Ace's mouth had begun to open and close again. He was trying to remember where the little crosses had been and was discovering that he couldn't do it. All of them seemed to blend together into one big cross in his jazzed-up, flying mind... the sort of cross you saw in cemeteries.
"All right!" he cried. "All right, I'll take the fucking job!"
"In that case, I believe this book is for sale after all," Mr.
Gaunt said. He drew it out of the drawer and checked the flyleaf.
"It goes for a dollar and a half." His jostling teeth appeared in a wide, sharky smile. "That's a dollar thirty-five, with the employee discount."
Ace drew his wallet from his back pocket, dropped it, and almost clouted his head on the edge of the glass case bending over to pick it up.
"But I've got to have some time off," he told Mr. Gaunt.
"Indeed." 'Because I really do have some digging to do."
"Of course."
"Time is short."
"How wise of you to know it."
"How about when I get back from Boston?"
"Won't you be tired?"
"Mr. Gaunt, I can't afford to be tired."
"I might be able to help you there," Mr. Gaunt said. His smile widened and his teeth bulged from it like the teeth of a skull. "I
might have a little pick-me-up for you, is what I mean to say.":,What?" Ace asked, his eyes widening. "What did you say?" 'I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing," Ace said. "Never mind."
"All right-do you still have the keys I gave you?" Ace was surprised to discover that he had stuffed the envelope containing the keys into his back pocket.
"Good." Mr. Gaunt rang up $1.35 on the old register, took the five-dollar bill Ace had laid on the counter, and rendered three dollars and sixty-five cents change. Ace took it like a man in a dream.
"Now," Mr. Gaunt said. "Let me give you a few directions, Ace.
And remember what I said: I want you back by midnight. If you're not back by midnight, I will be unhappy. When I'm unhappy, I sometimes lose my temper. You wouldn't want to be around when that happens."
"Do you Hulk out?" Ace asked jestingly.
Mr. Gaunt looked up with a grinning ferocity that caused Ace to retreat a step. "Yes," he said. "That's just what I do, Ace. I Hulk out. Indeed I do. Now pay attention."
Ace paid attention.
It was quarter of eleven and Alan was just getting ready to go down to Nan's and catch a quick cup of coffee when Sheila Brigham buzzed him. It was Sonny jackett on line one, she said. He insisted on talking to Alan