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Updated: June 12, 2025
"You look like a sensible chap. I 'm willing to do all I can to help you of course I am. It won't be much, I 'm afraid. But if any thick-headed cop says I can't do this or can't do that, there 's going to be trouble. They can't bluff me, and I know they have n't any right to dictate what I shall do." All of which was quite true. Maillot glanced at the body again, and lowered his voice.
But presently the matter went clean from his mind and this was the reason: A speed cop whose motorcycle stood inconspicuously around the corner of the garage, came forward and eyed the Ford sharply. He drew his little book from his pocket, turned a few leaves, found what he was looking for and eyed again the car.
I'm tellin' you because you done me a good turn onct. I guess that lets me out." "Not if I make you sit in." "You can make me sit in all right. But you can't make me talk. Show me a cop and I freeze. I ain't takin' no chances." "You're takin' bigger chances right now." "Bigger'n you know, kid. Listen! You and Jim Waring and Pat used me white.
"I wish," said Phronsie slowly, "that you'd come in, little girl." "Can't." The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best chance. "Please do," begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; "I very much wish you would." "Can't," repeated the girl on the outside. "Cop won't let me."
"Come up to my ranch some time soon to-night if you like. Cop will bring you," he added with a parting nod, as he left them for his own table at the other side of the room. Cop stared hard at his companion. "Thunderation!" he blurted, "but you're the lucky kid!" "Yes?" questioned Shag. "Never mind the luck, but tell me who that chap is; he's very nice; I like him."
You was thinking of giving me a hand, but you let the cop talk you out of it the first word. You're a dandy to tie to. Say, if you ever get a girl, she'll have a picnic. Won't she work you to the queen's taste! Oh, my!" She concluded with a taunting, shrill laugh that rasped Lorison like a saw.
"They found the thing at Mid-Continent, eh? But I didn't kill anybody. And there's no harm done. The thing's been running two weeks, now. I was going to the Power Board in a couple of days." He addressed the police. "I know what's up, now," he said. "Give me some clothes and let's go get this straightened out." A cop waved a stun-pistol at him. "One word out of line, and pfft!"
I'm in bully training, but I'm a cow compared to 'Shag." "What a rum name!" said Locke, still a little resentful. "Found out all about that, too," went on Cop. "Seems he has a whole string of names to choose from. Heard him tell the Head that his first name is 'Fire-Flint, and his last name is 'Larocque. Seemed to kind of take the Head where he is weakest.
I didn't care a rap what became of me for just that minute. I forgot about Tom. I prayed that the cop wouldn't come for a minute yet but only that I might answer him. "You're mighty smart, ain't you? You can sit back here and sneer at me, can't you? And feel so big and smart and triumphant! What've you done but catch a girl at her first bungling job! It makes you feel awfully cocky, don't it?
"Maybe you're telling the truth, at that," she announced suddenly, eyes coldly unprepossessed. "You sound fishy as all-hell, and God knows you're the sickest-looking cop I ever laid eyes on; but there are less unlikely things than that a second-story man should try this route for his getaway.... Well!" she demanded urgently "what're you standing there for, like a stone man?"
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