car. “Get them flivvers out o’ here! Right about now and move lively!”
Mr. Pauling chuckled and Mr. Henderson grinned. “Show us how!” cried back Mr. Pauling.
“No sassing back there!” stormed the policeman now riding close. “Get a move on or I’ll pinch the bunch of ye for interferin’ with the police, resistin’ an officer and blockadin’ traffic. I’ll get enough charges against ye to send youse to the island for a year.”
Mr. Henderson and Tom’s father were shaking with laughter. “Don’t be foolish, officer. Don’t you see we can’t move?” Mr. Henderson asked.
The policeman’s face grew purple with anger and he pushed his mount close beside the car, calling to a fellow officer to help him.
Exasperated by the crowd, naturally quick-tempered and in a frenzy of rage at these “swells,” as he mentally dubbed them, defying his orders, he drew his club and raised it threateningly.
Mr. Henderson leaped from the running board to the policeman’s side and in tones which even
the angry blue coat recognized as authoritative exclaimed,
“Here, that’s enough from you! You’ll find yourself broke if you don’t look out. Your job’s to protect citizens—not to abuse them!”
A look of mingled amazement and anger swept over the officer’s face.