“Well, you go down three blocks—jump in, I’m going that way.”
“Some heat,” said the young fellow as they rode along the bricked thoroughfare. “If we don’t get some rain pretty soon there’s going to be trouble. Whew, but it’s hot. There’s a lot of wells drying up where I come from.”
“You belong here?” Tom asked.
“Near Catskill.”
“You going there?”
“Yop.”
“I’ll go along if you don’t mind.”
The young fellow glanced at Tom rather curiously, which was natural, seeing that he had asked for police headquarters and ended by wanting to go to Catskill. But he did not trouble himself further with the ins and outs of such a matter.
“Did you think I was going to give myself up?” Tom laughed. It was a nervous, forced laugh.
The young fellow seemed not to care for he only said, “Look at that blamed radiator steam, will you? That’s the worst of a Ford. Puts you in mind of a geyser. Can you beat it?”