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“Why’d you become a bank robber, anyway?“ “Because my daddy named me Floyd. How about you?“ “You can probably guess,“ Maynard said, racking his shotgun. “Let’s go!“ The town was half boarded up and the hayseed bank looked fit to join it, but there’d be some money. Today was when the dirt farmers came in to cash the subsidy checks they got from Roosevelt for not planting their land. That made no sense to Maynard, people not working and getting paid for it while he was out here risking his neck being an outlaw. If the government wouldn’t pay him