“Pinched again?” came in chorus.
“No, but he’ll probably get himself pinched before he’s through with it. Know the von Essen girl?”
“Hildegarde, you mean? Sassy one? Swiftest flapper that ever flapped?”
“That’s the darlin’. Well, she drives that runabout of hers down Jefferson again, doin’ nothin’ less than forty-five and makin’ real time in spots. Seems she’s been fined pretty average regular. Well, traffic cop gets her and makes her haul up to the curb and crawls right in beside her. Uh-huh. And off they go to the station, her lookin’ like she could bite off the steerin’-wheel. Well, Potter and I are comin’ along in his car, and we see the excitement and tag after. You know Potter?”
“We do!”
“‘It’s that von Essen kid, isn’t it?’ he says to me, and I agree with him. ‘She’s been caught too regular,’ he says. ‘They’ll be nasty. Better trail along and see if we can help out.’ So we did. Got to the station simultaneous and adjacent to them, and out jumps Potter.
“‘Afternoon, Miss von Essen,’ says he.
“‘Mr. Waite,’ she says, cool as a bisque tortoni.
“‘Pinched?’ says he.
“‘Ask him,’ she says, and jerks her head toward the cop, who is clambering down.