“This guy ain’t passin’ me,” Hienie thought, moving out into the middle of the highway. “He’ll have to run me down first.” He began waving his arms violently.
As the car approached, he could see a small red cross painted on the front, and for a moment he almost stepped aside; but the thought of Frost made him stand firm.
The ambulance made as if to swerve, then slid to a standstill. A little guy in a white coat, and wearing a peaked cap, rolled down the window and looked at Hienie with interest.
“What’s bitin’ you, pal?” he asked, resting two powerful fists on the wheel.
Hienie took off his hat and blotted his face. “Jeeze! I was just givin’ up when you blew along.”
The little guy shook his head. “You can’t ride on this wagon,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d give you a lift, sure thing, but I’m on duty. I gotta patient.”
Hienie didn’t care if he’d got elephants on board. He was going to ride now he’d succeeded in stopping something on four wheels.
“Forget it,” he said sharply, his thin wolfish face going hard. “There’s room in the cab. I don’t want to get inside.”
The little guy shook his head again. “Can’t do it, pal. I’d lose my job. Some other guy will be along soon. I gotta get on. Maybe you’d like a smoke or somethin’?”
Hienie stepped round the ambulance, jerked open the offside door and got into the cab. He slammed the door shut.