“Okay, buddy,” he said to the man, “I’ll take a look up your coat sleeves.”
“Mine?” the young chap said.
“Yours.”
I said, “What’s the matter with this guy? Has he gone crazy?”
The man who was standing at the two-bit machine weaved slightly back and forth, just an inch or two at a time as he shifted his weight, on the balls of his feet.
The girl said, “I’m going to quit,” and started for the door.
The attendant said, “Just a minute, sister,” and grabbed.
She eluded him. People were crowding around.
The attendant said, “You three crooks are going to get yours right now. The law has a date with you.”
“Not with me,” I said.