I gave one of those quick, funny, boyish nods the star inside affects and wiped my lips with my handkerchief.
That brought down my house. Even the biggest fellow with the badge giggled recognizingly, and then put his hand quickly in front of his mouth and tried to look severe and official.
The color had come back to Obermuller's face; it was worth dancing for—that.
"Be patient, Mag; let me tell it my way."
There wasn't room in the coupe waiting out in front for more than two. So Obermuller couldn't come in it. But he put me in—Mag, dear, dear Mag—he put me in as if I was a lady—not like Gray; a real one. A thing like that counts when two detectives are watching. It counted afterward in the way they treated me.
The big man climbed up on the seat with the driver. The blue-eyed fellow got in and sat beside me, closing the door.
"I'll be out there almost as soon as you are," Obermuller said, standing a moment beside the lowered window.
"You good fellow!" I said, and then, trying to laugh: "I'll do as much for you some day."
He shook his fist laughingly at me, and I waved my hand as we drove of.
"You know, Miss, there may be some mistake about this," said the man next to me, "and—"