“How does it come you own two cars?” the constable said, very shrewd like.
“Is that a riddle?” Harry said.
“Where’d you come from?” the man asked.
“Well, we came from Utica,” Harry said, “we happened to read about the robbery in the papers there—five hundred bucks reward, you know. We couldn’t resist that.”
“City fellers, ain’t yer?” the constable said.
“Right the first time,” Harry said; “you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes; how did you ever find it out?”
The man said, “Well, I ain’t got no use fer these here amatoor detectives. And I ain’t got no use fer filling youngsters’ heads up with a lot of truck about doin’ sleuth work, neither. ’Cause all that’s a part uv dime novels. Clews and sech things is for the po-lice. Them stolen goods is in some pawnshop or maybe buried, and as soon as them two swabs is ready to give us the tip, I’m ready to talk business with ’em—that’s me.”
“What could be nicer?” Harry said.
“They’ll weaken,” the man said.
“Did you ask them please?” Harry wanted to know.