It was eight-thirty when we crossed the river. New Zion was just ahead of us. But the whole town was in darkness.
“They go to bed early,” I yelled at Poppy, as we hurtled along like a crippled turtle.
“Without any picture shows to go to, or anything to read, what else can they do?” the driver yelled back.
“Maybe,” I yelled then, “we can get through town without them catching us.”
Quick to act on that thought, Poppy stopped the engine and switched off the lights, of which only one was working up in front.
“If we use our wits, Jerry, we ought to be able to save that two dollars. For instance,” came the plan, “as soon as old Goliath stops us, instead of forking out our two dollars, we’ll hit him for something to eat. Two suppers will be four bits in his pocket, we’ll tell him. All right. When we get ready to leave for home the old engine won’t run. We accidentally dropped a gee-whacker. See? And you go back with him to try and find it. That gives me a chance to beat it. And once outside of town, I’ll shut off the lights and wait for you.”
“Lovely!” says I. “And suppose old blunderbuss grabs me and takes the two dollars out of my hide?”
“Shucks! As soon as he hears the engine running he’ll start back on the gallop. Then you can easily follow him in the dark.”
“And how about yourself?” says I. “You’ll be out of luck if the old bus stalls before you get away.”
“If I put up the two dollars, he can’t any more than bawl me out.”