“First, hand over that leather.”
The detective forked it over.
“Take anything else?”
“Didn’t have time.”
“Well, young man, my name is Leonard Martin. I’m from Chicago, and I’m touring New England with three friends of mine, traveling in one of these auto cars. The machine belongs to me, but I haven’t the first notion how to run the thing. One of my friends knows the ropes, but he was taken sick a day or two ago, and will be hung up here for quite a spell. Now, if you want to run the Red Spider for me——”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” mumbled Nick, with another contortion.
“You whining fool!” growled Mr. Martin, testily, “will you shut up?”
“Then, if you want to save your scalp, you can drive the Red Spider for me.”
“All right, sir.”