“Hold on, hold on. Turn around. By golly, we off the road.”
“No we’re not. I know where I am. It takes us to Malibu Beach. Don’t you remember? I told you I wanted to see it.”
“You go slow.”
“I’m going slow.”
“You go plenty slow. Maybe all get killed.”
We got to the top and started into the down-grade. She cut the motor. They heat fast for a few minutes, when the fan stops. Down at the bottom she started the motor again. I looked at the temp gauge. It was 200. She started into the next up-grade and the temp gauge kept climbing.
“Yes sir, yes sir.”
It was our signal. It was one of those dumb things a guy can say any time, and nobody will pay any attention to it. She pulled off to one side. Under us was a drop so deep you couldn’t see the bottom of it. It must have been 500 feet.
“I think I’ll let it cool off a bit.”
“By golly, you bet. Frank, look a that. Look what it says.”