Fryupdale

Mad Harry jerked his arm to tell us to follow. We kept in the trees and skirted right round the back so the big truck was nearest.

'Here,' said Mad Harry, and sat down and began opening his back pack.

'See where the tarp's highest?' said Uncle Cyrus, moving close again.

'Yeah.'

'I reckon that's more than likely the fucking hammer thing.'

'Okay.'

'What do you reckon you can hit the bullseye?'

I didn't take my eyes off the tarp. I said, 'easy.'

Uncle Cyrus patted my shoulder. He said, 'make sure you hit it good.'

Mad Harry pulled out the wine bottle. 'Once it's lit, you throw it right away,' he said. I nodded. He placed the cold bottle in my hand. 'Then you run like a bastard.'

'Dogs or no dogs,' added Uncle Cyrus.

'Down there.' Mad Harry flung his arm into