ON THE WING
The constable stared at Hiram. He glanced at Elmer with half a scowl. Then he rubbed his head as if seeking for new ideas. Finally a sort of sickly grin overspread his flabby face.
“You’d make a good lawyer,” he observed. “Over the state line I am, sure enough, with no warrant served. Well, I’m not so sorry as you may think.”
“I’m glad to hear you say so,” declared Hiram. “You’ll be glad, too, when you come to know that the man behind the gun in this case is an unmitigated rascal.”
“I didn’t know anything about that, I simply followed orders,” said the official, in a slightly apologetic tone.
“Well, good-bye, officer, I suppose I can go?” broke in Elmer.
“I shan’t hinder you. Only keep out of my territory.”
Elmer exchanged a look of mutual understanding with Hiram, and walked slowly away. He soon disappeared beyond a little thicket, heading in the direction of the town and the railroad station.
“Well, officer?” spoke up Hiram, moving about the biplane to see that everything was in order.
“Well, lad,” returned the constable, “I suppose it’s in order for me to get back home after this fool’s errand.”