"Or check the alarm." Norman held his breath and grinned. "Crafty old Captain Daniels —" A sudden wave of fear struck him like a thunderbolt. He subconsciously patted the left back pocket of his trousers, where there was nothing but a bulging wallet. He touched his right trouser pocket again, and when his hand touched the soft rubber mask, he let out a long breath. He had obviously forgotten that his revolver was still in the safe in the room, but he had not forgotten to put on his mask. Now the mask seems to be more important than the pistol. It's a crazy idea, but it's true. He stood on the sidewalk watching 251 across the street, and if there were only a few bitches there, he would take them all hostage. If there were many people, he would catch as many as he could-maybe five or six, and drive the rest to the hillside. And started shooting at them. One by one, until someone gave Rose's address. If none of them knew, she would beat them all to death and start looking for the relevant documents. But he doesn't think he needs to wait that long. If the police were there, what would you do, Norman? His father's voice in his head asked nervously. What if there's a lot of police inside and out,gold shaking table, and they protect the place from you? He doesn't know. He doesn't care. He passed 245, 247, 249. There was a fence between the sidewalk and the last house, and when he came to the end of the fence, he stopped suddenly and stared at No.251 with cautious and suspicious eyes. If he had seen that all kinds of precautions had been taken here, he would undoubtedly have been fully prepared,mineral flotation, but he was surprised that there was no movement here. The sisters' house was situated at the end of a narrow, deep lawn, and the shadow of the three floors was cast on the still steaming ground. It was as quiet as a ruin. The window on the left side of the porch had no curtains. It was dark inside. There was no moving figure. There wasn't a person on the porch or a car in the driveway. I can't stand here like this, he thought, and started moving again. He passed the building and looked into the back courtyard. He had seen two bitches here when he came to scout-one of them was the one he caught behind the bathroom. The yard was empty tonight, and he could see that the backyard was empty. It's a trap, Norman, said his father. You understand this kind of thing, don't you? Norman walked quickly until he came to gate 257, then turned and wandered back down the sidewalk. He knew that although it looked like a trap and that his father might be right, Carbon in Pulp ,small gold wash plant, he somehow felt that it wasn't. Ferdinand, the bull, appeared to him like a beautiful rubber elf-Norman had already taken it out of his back pocket and put it on his hand, but he didn't realize it. He knew this was not a good idea: anyone standing at the window looking out would be curious that this big man with a swollen face could talk to a rubber mask.. And he played with the lips of the mask to make it answer him. But it doesn't matter, life has become very.. Oh, it's simplistic. Norman likes this kind of life. No, it's not a trap. Ferdinand said. Are you sure? He asked. He was almost in front of 251 again. Yes Said Ferdinand, swinging his garlanded horns. "They just happened to be at a picnic, that's all.". Now they might all be sitting around roasted hollyhocks, and some gay guy dressed like an old grandmother is singing "Candle in the Wind.". To them, you are just a small disturbance in life, and it doesn't mean anything more. He stopped at the path leading to the sisters' house and looked down at the mask. He was shocked by the bull's words. "Hey, man, I'm sorry," Mr. Bull said apologetically. "But you know, I didn't make up the information. I just told you the truth." Norman found out the hard way that there are times when you feel as bad as when your wife takes the credit card and leaves home, and that's when you're left out in the cold. Snubbed by a group of women. \ "Well, teach them not to do it, \" Ferdinand said. \ "Teach them a lesson. Do it, Norman, and let them know who you are, so they'll never forget it. "They will never forget this lesson in their lives." Norman murmured its words, and the mask nodded encouragingly in his hand. He put it back in his back pocket, and as he walked forward, he fingered Bohr's key card and the note he had torn from her address book from his left front shirt pocket. He walked up the porch steps and casually (as he hoped it looked) glanced at the camera lens mounted on the door. Although he stuck the key card on his leg, his eyes could still be watched. Whatever his luck, he had to remember that Ferdinand was only a rubber mask and that Norman Daniels' hand was its brain. The keyhole of the combination lock was exactly where he had imagined it, and there was a voice box next to it, with a small mark on it indicating that visitors could press the button and speak. Norman pressed the button, leaned forward and said, "This is Midland Gas, checking for a leak in gas line 104." He let go of the button and waited, glancing overhead at the camera lens. If it's a black and white camera,chrome washing machine, it doesn't show that his face is very swollen. He hopes so. He smiled to show that he was not hostile, and at the same time his heart pounded like a motor, as if it were about to jump out of his chest. No answer. Nothing. He answered the button again. "The gas company.". Is anyone home? 。 ore-magnetic-mining.com