"Bear?" asked the Watermelon innocently.
"Autos," said the man.
"Sir," began the general. He felt a pressure on his shoulder so firm, that, irritated, he turned to remonstrate with Henrietta. One could not explain the situation with any degree of pride in the first place, still less so, if some one behind were apparently endeavoring to suppress one.
The Watermelon frowned. "We weren't breaking any speed limit, unless the snail is the standard you regulate your speed laws by." The men no longer believed that they had caught the thief, but if they insisted on taking the party before a magistrate, each would have to give his name. With the general present, fictitious names would only be so much waste of breath, and the Watermelon had no desire to give his assumed name to any one in the employ of the law.
"Naw," sneered the man, spitting with gusto. "There're other things to break besides speed laws."
"Yes," agreed the Watermelon, "your empty head."
"Now, don't get sassy," warned the man, growing angry. "I'm an officer of the law and I'm not going to take any of your sass."
"An officer of the law can't arrest a law-abiding citizen," snapped the Watermelon with righteous indignation.
"Law-abiding?" jeered the man.
"What have we done?"