Foley said, "You hid out with Mickey Mouse, huh?"

"Yeah, Mickey and Minnie, that whole crowd. I thought about it and decided I could kill two birds, hide out up here and do the job I told you about at Lompoc. You know the one I mean?"

Foley nodded.

"So I called Maurice."

"Who's Maurice?"

"Snoopy," Buddy said, leaning over now to get his suitcoat off.

"Snoopy Miller."

Glenn-it was weird-felt a sense of relief come over him hearing the name Snoopy. For some reason he thought of Snoopy the dog, saw him in his mind the way Snoopy appeared in the comic strip, before thinking of the other Snoopy who wasn't Snoopy anymore-the one over there with the trainers; no, talking to White Boy now and they were coming this way, White Boy carrying his shirts. Glenn had to wonder why only a few moments ago he'd felt cornered.

Leaning against Foley he said, "Here comes Snoopy now.

You recognize him?"

Foley wasn't sure. He had seen him fight only a couple of times at Lompoc, about the same time they began calling him Snoopy instead of Mad Dog and he quit the ring; and had seen him once in a while with Glenn, in the yard. Glenn got up and Foley looked over at Buddy.

"The guy in the do-rag."

"Yeah?"

"That's Snoopy."

"Little squirt," Buddy said.

"What's he do now, tell fortunes?"

He was walking up to Glenn when Foley said, "Hey, Snoopy, how you doing?" and he stopped and looked over.

Standing at the edge of the ring apron, he looked from Foley to Buddy and back again, pretty serious about it. He said to Foley, "I'm suppose to know you?"

"Lompoc," Foley said, and waited for Glenn to say something, it was his party. But he didn't.

"Yeah, Lompoc," Maurice said, like he was remembering it now, picturing some part of it.

Now the big guy with him moved in closer saying, "We have a problem here?"

It took Foley back to the yard, guys sizing each other up, making judgments that could mean somebody's life. Foley didn't look at the big white guy, but kept staring at the Snoop he remembered as all show, had the moves, the weaves, the head fakes when he wasn't even near his opponent, doing that little jive skip and touching a glove to his head.

He stared at the Snoop till he saw the man's face begin to relax and now he was smiling.

"Jack Foley. Am I right?"

Foley nodded.

"And Buddy. Yeah, I can see you two now in the yard, sure.

Jack Foley, famous bank robber. It seem to me I been reading about you in the newspaper. Busted out of some joint in Florida, huh?"

"Low class of people there, Snoop. I got out with a little help from my friends." He saw Glenn about to speak.

But the big guy cut him off saying, "You call him that again I'll put your head through the wall."

Buddy said, "What? You mean Snoop?"

Foley watched the Snoop raise his hand to the guy as if to hold him off.

"Nobody calls me Snoop no more or Snoopy, is what White Boy's trying to say. He's a little crude, you understand. No, I left that Snoopy shit behind me."

Buddy said, "What do they call you now?"

"My name, Maurice. Nothing fancy."

Buddy said, "And you call this bozo White Boy?"

"White Boy Bob," Glenn said, putting his two cents in, and it sounded innocent enough, though not to Foley. Glenn telling them now, "White Boy used to be a fighter." Giving Buddy the bait.

Buddy said, "What's he do now outside of shoot his mouth off?"

Foley said to Maurice, "Like being back in the yard, huh?"

Maurice grinned at him.

"Just like it. Nobody backing down.

You back down you pussy. Tell me what you and Buddy doing up here in the cold."

"They think they're getting in on our gig," Glenn said, "but no one told me they were coming. I told you I had two guys and then told you I didn't? These are the two."

Maurice said, "Let's go outside to talk."

"What's the matter with right here?" Foley said.

"It's nice and warm."

"Warm? Man, it's ninety-five degrees in here, sometime a hundred-the way Emanuel always kep' it so his boys'd sweat, get lean and mean like Tommy Hearns. No, I ain't talking any business in here. To me this is like holy ground, man. You understand? I got to be someplace anyway. Y'all want to talk, come to the fights Wednesday night, we'll sit down and look at it good."

Foley turned to Buddy. Buddy shrugged and Foley said, "Where?"

Outside, walking to the car, Foley said, "You notice, it's supposed to be Glenn's deal, but now it looks like he's working for the Snoop."

"Call him that again," Buddy said, "you heard that musclebound asshole, what he'll do to you."

"He was telling us who he is, that's all, making himself known."

"Yeah? Who is he?"

"A musclebound asshole. You know the thing that bothers me?"

"If the Snoop's been reading about you," Buddy said, "he knows you're worth ten gees."

"You recall did it say dead or alive?"

"I think it's for information leading to your being apprehended. They might pay off on your being dead, but I don't see how the Snoop'd work it. You know what I mean? It wouldn't be the same kind of deal as that bum giving up the Cuban."

"Lulu," Foley said.

"I wonder if they got Chino."

"They might have. We been out of touch."

Crossing the street now, approaching the car, Foley said, "I kind of like that do-rag the Snoop had on. You know it? It looked cool on him."

"I ever catch you wearing one," Buddy said, "I'll turn you in for the ten gees."

Glenn was trying to get some answers while Maurice watched the two guys sparring, poking at each other, and it was like talking to the wall.

"You said you could get a couple of guys for a hundred bucks each.

Right?"

Maurice would yell at the one with RICARDO OWEN on the tank top he wore over his yellow T-shirt, telling him to jab, jab, telling him it was what he had the gloves on for. Keep 'em up and jab.

"If you can get the two guys, what do we need Foley and Buddy for?"

"My guys ain't here no more."

"Where are they? Did you find out?"

Maurice said, "Ricky, stick and move, man. Stick and move."

And to Glenn, "They ain't allowed in here no more."

"What do you mean, they aren't allowed in here?"

"Stay tight on him, Ricky. Don't give him room. They fucked up their privilege, trainer caught 'em selling weed outside the front door.

Ricky, you got to crowd him he does that."

The bell rang and the fighters moved away from each other to walk around on the canvas, their arms hanging.

Maurice said, "Come on," and brought Glenn away from the ring, away from the trainers looking over, to sit down on the bench nearest the door. White Boy went over and began hitting the heavy bag.

"You tell me you bringing these people," Maurice said, "then you ain't bringing the people, but the people show up anyway."

"I told you I didn't know they were coming."

"But they here, they know about the deal and want to discuss it. Fine.

Meantime the two I thought of getting I don't want now, they dirty. You understand? So what's wrong with using the bank robbers? We know they cool-go in as many banks as those two have?"

"You know," Glenn said, "you'll have to offer them a split, not any hundred bucks."

"Was that your deal with them?"

"We never got that far."

"Well, what we offer and what they get," Maurice said, "could be two entirely different things."