I press the badge intensely, sweating. Hey, captain!
"Halloway! Glory. You're not dead. Where are you?"
I stopped for popcorn, sir. I can't see you. How do I hear you?
"It's an echo. Let it go. If you're okay, grab the next street-car."
That's very opportune. Because here comes a big red street-car now, around the corner of the drug store.
"What!"
Yes, sir, and its chock full of people. I'll climb aboard.
"Wait a minute! Hold on! Murder! What kind of people, dammit?"
It's the West Side gang. Sure. The whole bunch of tough kids.
"West side gang, hell, those are Martians, get the hell outa there! Transfer to another car—take the subway! Take the elevated!"