“Wait a minute till I stop laughing,” said Townsend. “The pl—pl—the plot seems to be—be—growing thicker. I can’t laugh and think at the same time.”
“Well then, think first,” called the motley hero; “I want to come down. If it’s a smash-up up the road—”
“I don’t think it’s a smash-up, Kid,” laughed Townsend. “From what you say I think it’s an inspectors’ drive.”
“What’s that?” Pee-wee called.
“Oh, every now and then the auto inspectors have a kind of intensive campaign to round up people who drive without licenses,” said Townsend, companionably. He was lying on his back on the ground, hands clasped above his head as if nothing whatever had happened, and seemed disposed to chat. Pee-wee, his face resplendent with gorgeous spots, looked down on him scornfully. “You’ll get an inspiration, Kid, don’t worry,” said Townsend.
Pee-wee took another look through the field-glass and seemed to be of Townsend’s way of thinking. “What do you mean? What do they do?” he asked.
“Oh, they hang out outside a town usually and stop everybody that comes along,” said Townsend sociably, “and every one that hasn’t got his license cards is invited to stay whether he wants to or not and when they get a nice little batch of them they parade them into town and they’re all fined and live happily forever after. Is it hot up there?”
“Have you ever been arrested for that?” the human leopard demanded.
“No, because I can always shuffle out my little driver’s license, but they stop me about six times a minute when I’m away from Bridgeboro, because I look so young and innocent. I’m under age and I’ve got a special under-age license, that’s why. It’s because I’m so smart and am such an expert driver. I always foil them as you would say. It must be getting on toward suppertime, I’m hungry. I think I’ll get supper.”
“If you think you’re so smart,” shouted Pee-wee, “tell me how I’m going to get down out of here. Don’t you suppose I want to eat supper, too? Gee whiz!”