Of the talk that followed, Terry heard little, because he was paying
scant attention. He saw Joe Pollard lie back in his chair with squinted
eyes and run over a swift description of the country through which the
trail of the money would lead. The leader knew every inch of the
mountains, it seemed. His memory was better than a map; in it was jotted
down every fallen log, every boulder, it seemed. And when his mind was
fixed on the best spot for the holdup, he sketched his plan briefly.
To this man and to that, parts were assigned in brief. There would be
more to say in the morning about the details. And every man offered
suggestions. On only one point were they agreed. This was a sum of money
for which they could well afford to spill blood. For such a prize as this
they could well risk making the countryside so hot for themselves that
they would have to leave Pollard's house and establish headquarters
elsewhere. Two shares to Pollard and one to each of his men, including
Sandy, would make the total loot some four thousand dollars and more per
man. And in the event that someone fell in the attempt, which was more
than probable, the share for the rest would be raised to ten thousand for
Pollard and five thousand for each of the rest.
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