Shuggy McRandle was making his way towards the bar with the twenty clasped in his fist, which was deep in his pocket. He wasn't going to be fooled this time, and he'd have his beer before he left. Jonesy had been shadowing him since he turned on Sixth Street, and waved off two other yeggs who had caught Shugg's scent. If Doris came home to a bleeding scalp and bare feet one more time, he'd never take her sister out.