ledge was going to be handy. More
important, it kept him from the jobs that grimed his hands.

He sought other pursuits, but Jake had never had a resident spotter
before and the play-facilities provided were few. Jimmy took to
reading--necessarily, the books that Jake read, that is, approximately
equal parts of science fiction and girlie-girlie books. The science
fiction he enjoyed; but he was not able to understand why he wasn't
interested in the girlie books. So Jimmy read. Jake even went out of his
way to find more science fiction for the lad.

Ultimately, Jimmy located a potential source of pleasure.

He spotted a car with a portable typewriter on the back seat. The car was
locked and therefore no target, but it stirred his fancy. Thereafter he
added a contingent requirement to his spotting. A car with a typewriter
was more desirable than one without.

Jimmy went on to further astound Jake by making a list of what the
customers were buying. After that he concentrated on spotting those cars
that would provide the fastest sale for their parts.

It was only a matter of time; Jimmy spotted a car with a portable
typewriter. It was not as safe a take as his others, but he reported it.
Jake's driver picked it up and got it out in a squeak; the car itself
turned up to be no great find.

Jimmy claimed the typewriter at once.

Jake objected: "No dice, Jimmy."

"I want it, Jake."

"Look, kid, I can sell it for twenty."

"But I want it."

Jake eyed Jimmy thoughtfully, and he saw two things. One was a
thousand-dollar reward standing before him. The other was a row of prison
bars.

Jake could only collect one and avoid the other by being very sure that
Jimmy Holden remained grateful to Jake for Jake's shelter and protection.

He laughed roughly. "All right, Jimmy," he said. "You lift it and you can
have it."

Jimmy struggled with the typewriter, and succeeded only because it was a
new one made of the titanium-magnesium-aluminum alloys. It hung between
his little knees, almost--but not quite--touching the ground.

"You have it," said Jake. He lifted it lightly and carried it into the
boy's little bedroom.

Jimmy started after dinner. He picked out the letters with the same
painful search he'd used in typing his getaway letter. He made the
same mistakes he'd made before. It had taken him almost an hour and
nearly fifty sheets of paper to compose that first note without an
error; that was no way to run a railroa