New Yorkers were pretty
neat--I mean if you don't count the Bronx. But here were thirty or
forty skeletons that nobody had even bothered to clear away.

You call that neat? Right in plain view on the ground floor, where
everybody who came into the place would be sure to go--I mean if it
had been on one of the upper floors, what difference would it have
made?

I began to wish we were out of the city. But naturally that would have
to wait until we finished what we came here to do--otherwise, what was
the point of coming all the way here in the first place?

* * * * *

The tobacco counter was bare. I got the wheelbarrow easily
enough--there were plenty of those, all sizes; I picked out a nice
light red-and-yellow one with rubber-tired wheel. I rolled it over to
Sporting Goods on the same floor, but that didn't work out too well. I
found a 30-30 with telescopic sights, only there weren't any
cartridges to fit it--or anything else. I took the gun anyway; Engdahl
would probably have some extra ammunition.

Men's Clothing was a waste of time, too--I guess these New Yorkers
were too lazy to do laundry. But I found the typewriter I wanted.

I put the whole load into the wheelbarrow, along with a couple of odds
and ends that caught my eye as I passed through Housewares, and I
bumped as gently as I could down the shallow steps of the motionless
escalator to the ground floor.

I came down the back way, and that was a mistake. It led me right past
the food department. Well, I don't have to tell you what _that_ was
like, with all the exploded cans and the rats as big as poodles. But I
found some cologne and soaked a handkerchief in it, and with that over
my nose, and some fast footwork for the rats, I managed to get to one
of the doors.

It wasn't the one I had come in, but that was all right. I sized up
the guard. He looked smart enough for a little bargaining, but not too
smart; and if I didn't like his price, I could always remember that I
was supposed to go out the other door.

I said: "Psst!"

When he turned around, I said rapidly: "Listen, this isn't the way I
came in, but if you want to do business, it'll be the way I come out."

He thought for a second, and then he smiled craftily and said: "All
right, come on."

Well, we haggled. The gun was the big thing--he wanted five thousand
for that and he wouldn't come down. The wheelbarrow he was willing to
let go for five hundred. And t