“Yes, sir.”

“Why were you called that?”

“Because of my trade, sir.”

“You know how to run these automobiles?”

“That used to be my business. But I took to drink, sir, and lost job after job. Then I took to this graft.”

“What’s your record?”

“It’s terrible, sir.”

“How terrible?”

“Five years in Sing Sing and ten in Stillwater.”

A gleam had come into the murky eyes of the man with the gun.