“We made it.”
“Then you must be the Golden boys.”
Bob smilingly acknowledged the accusation.
“I’ve heard of you and I’m mighty glad to meet you,” and the officer held out his hand.
“And we thought we were pinched,” Jack grinned as he grasped his hand.
“Not this time,” the officer smiled, “and you can go the limit for all of me but you’d best not go over thirty-five as I’m not the only cop along here.”
Bob took several minutes explaining the working of the motor to the officer and then he accompanied them into Portland.
“If you ever get held up along here send for Jim Pratt,” he told them as he bade them good bye in front of the Congress Square hotel.
Bob invited him in to the hotel to take dinner with them, but he refused on the ground that he was on duty and might get into trouble.
“Pretty nice chap, that,” Jack said as they entered the hotel.