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- Нил Гейман
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"
I
don
’
t
see
a
Winnebago
.
"
"
He
’
ll
bring
you
the
Winnebago
,
"
said
John
Chapman
.
"
You
know
he
will
.
"
Harry
Bluejay
attempted
a
trick
shot
and
missed
.
His
hand
was
not
steady
enough
.
"
I
’
m
not
the
old
fox
’
s
nephew
,
"
said
Harry
Bluejay
.
"
I
wish
he
wouldn
’
t
say
that
to
people
.
"
"
Better
a
live
fox
than
a
dead
wolf
,
"
said
Wednesday
,
in
a
voice
so
deep
it
was
almost
a
growl
.
"
Now
,
will
you
sell
us
your
car
?
"
Harry
Bluejay
shivered
,
visibly
and
violently
.
"
Sure
,
"
he
said
.
"
Sure
.
I
was
only
kidding
.
I
kid
a
lot
,
me
.
"
He
put
down
the
pool
cue
on
the
pool
table
,
and
took
a
thick
jacket
,
pulling
it
out
from
a
cluster
of
similar
jackets
hanging
from
pegs
by
the
door
.
"
Let
me
get
my
shit
out
of
the
car
first
,
"
he
said
.
He
kept
darting
glances
at
Wednesday
,
as
if
he
were
concerned
that
the
older
man
was
about
to
explode
.
Harry
Bluejay
’
s
car
was
parked
a
hundred
yards
away
.
As
they
walked
toward
it
,
they
passed
a
small
whitewashed
Catholic
church
,
and
a
fair
-
haired
man
in
a
priest
’
s
collar
who
stared
at
them
from
the
doorway
as
they
went
past
.
He
was
sucking
on
a
cigarette
as
if
he
did
not
enjoy
smoking
it
.
"
Good
day
to
you
,
father
!
"
called
Johnny
Chapman
,
but
the
man
in
the
dog
-
collar
made
no
reply
;
he
crushed
his
cigarette
under
his
heel
,
picked
up
the
butt
,
and
dropped
it
into
the
bin
beside
the
door
,
and
went
inside
.
"
I
told
you
not
to
give
him
those
pamphlets
last
time
you
were
here
,
"
said
Harry
Bluejay
.
