“Yes sir,” Bradshaw replied quickly.
“You’d better bring them to headquarters for obstructing traffic.”
“All right, sir,” Bradshaw agreed. “What’ll we do with Her Highness? Put her under arrest?”
“Who is Her Highness?”
“The bus. I was introduced a few days ago.”
“Thought United States didn’t like nobility.” There was a tiny smile on the chief’s lips and a twinkle in his eyes. “How do you explain the title, Bradshaw?”
“I don’t know, sir, unless they are of Irish descent—”
“We are not,” Jim declared positively.
“You’ve done devilment enough today to be pure-bloods,” Bradshaw informed them. The chief dismounted and came close to the fuselage and held out his hand.
“I want to thank you for your devilment, boys,” he smiled and they both thought he was a grand looking man, the sort one reads about.