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Updated: May 19, 2025
There were too many people around for this murderer to have a chance at a getaway. But he didn't get away, at that. Twenty minutes later, while Joe still waited fretfully in the phone booth, the phone bell rang and Major Holt was again on the wire. And this time Joe was instructed to come back to the Shed. He had exact orders whom to come with, and they had orders which identified them to Joe.
And therefore I was convinced that sooner or later that old man and his foolish ideas and his shotgun would come projecting right across our well-planned getaway. Which was just what happened, and almost at once. Probably that great horned owl had been hooting for some time, but we had been too busy to notice.
"How did it happen?" Ames said the Brungarian had somehow fashioned a crude weapon and overpowered the turnkey. Disguising himself in the guard's uniform, he had slipped out before his victim was discovered. "He must have had outside help within close call," Ames ended, "because he seems to have made a clean getaway. The State Police have spread a dragnet, but it doesn't look hopeful."
O'Malley said eagerly, "Spill it. Escape is what I'm lookin' for." Sim went to the door and opened it. He looked up and down the hall, then closed the door. "I was going to try it alone, but I may be able to take you fellows along." He spoke slowly. "Sure, three can make a getaway easier than one," O'Malley said. Stan said nothing. "Germany is cracking up fast," Sim went on.
Then he went forward and looked down at him. "I reckon that ends Black MacQueen," he said quietly. "And I reckon Melissy Lee is a widow." Jack Flatray had met O'Connor at his own office and the two had come down to the station on the off chance that MacQueen might try to make his getaway from Mesa in some disguise.
He glanced down at his bandaged arm with a malicious grin. Phyllis looked at him without speaking. It was Keller who made application of the remark. "There are others here beside her pupils. Some of them are right quick and straight on the shoot, Mr. Weaver. Now you've seen Miss Sanderson home, there's still time to make your getaway without trouble.
"You drivers, if you get out ahead of the others and keep ahead, you'll get a bonus when you come in tonight." Each side was now striving to get away first. The crew from the canary car made the getaway ahead of Phil's men, but they had less than a minute's headway. The Circus Boys had their coats off and were hustling cans of paste over the side of the car into the wagons.
Nothing to fear. My own little room and my own little job and me not getting heart failure every time I recognize a plain-clothes man on the beat or hear a night stick on the sidewalk jerk me out of my sleep. Getaway, don't do anything bad. You had one narrow escape. You're finger-printed. Headquarters wouldn't give you the benefit of a doubt if there was one. Don't Getaway!"
It's the first day I seen you out on the range." "I was working in the garden first. Then they put me at this, this mornin'." "Uhuh. Well, Col, that there getaway of mine is in all the papers. 'Tramp Cowboy Steals Horse and Escapes. Say, did she yip about my borrowin' the cayuse?" "She was mad at first. But your fancy ridin' kind of made her forget. I told her you was square, Red." "Huh!
"Yes, but but not the kind of fellows that mean by pretty what I mean by pretty." "Well, this here guy means what you mean by pretty." "What do you mean by pretty, Getaway?" "Pep. Peaches. Cream. Teeth. Yellow hair. Arms. Le those little holes in your cheeks. Dimples. What do I mean by pretty? I mean you by pretty. Ain't that what you want me to mean by pretty?" "Yes and no " "Well, what the "
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