Criminals, beware; the Scorpion is on
your trail! Hoodlums fear his fury--and,
for that matter, so do the cops!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The man with the handkerchief mask said, "All right, everybody, keep
tight. This is a holdup."
There were twelve people in the bank. There was Mr. Featherhall at
his desk, refusing to okay a personal check from a perfect stranger.
There was the perfect stranger, an itinerant garage mechanic named
Rodney (Rod) Strom, like the check said. There were Miss English and
Miss Philicoff, the girls in the gilded teller cages. There was Mister
Anderson, the guard, dozing by the door in his brown uniform. There was
Mrs. Elizabeth Clayhorn, depositing her husband's pay check in their
joint checking account, and with her was her ten-year-old son Edward
(Eddie) Clayhorn, Junior. There was Charlie Casale, getting ten dollars
dimes, six dollars nickels and four dollars pennies for his father
in the grocery store down the street. There was Mrs. Dolly Daniels,
withdrawing money from her savings account again. And there were three
bank robbers.
The three bank robbers looked like triplets. From the ground up, they
all wore scuffy black shoes, baggy-kneed and unpressed khaki trousers,
brown cracked-leather jackets over flannel shirts, white handkerchiefs
over the lower half of their faces and gray-and-white check caps pulled
low over their eyes. The eyes themselves looked dangerous.
The man who had spoken withdrew a small but mean-looking thirty-two
calibre pistol from his jacket pocket. He waved it menacingly. One of
the others took the pistol away from Mister Anderson, the guard, and
said to him in a low voice, "Think about retirement, my friend." The
third one, who carried a black satchel like a doctor's bag, walked
quickly around behind the teller's counter and started filling it with
money.
It was just like the movies.
The man who had first spoken herded the tellers, Mr. Featherhall and
the customers all over against the back wall, while the second man
stayed next to Mr. Anderson and the door. The third man stuffed money
into the black satchel.