Suddenly I hears voices, and all them stars went zippin’ away.
“Put her feet in, dang you! No, I want her all in. I tell you I’m goin’ to take away what I own. Now, you show me how to start her, Dirty Shirt.”
I raised up and looked around. I’m in the back seat of that danged machine, along with Mrs. Tombstone Todd, and in the front seat is Tombstone, with a six-gun in his right hand. I can’t see Dirty Shirt Jones, but I can see the light of his lantern. Mrs. Todd is sprawled out, snoring lustily.
“Y—you—tut—turn that dud-dingus on that dashboard,” sayd Dirty weak-like.
Zee-e-e-e-e! Somethin’ kinda hummed a little.
Mrs. Todd jerked upright, surged ahead and grabbed the back of the front seat.
“My Gawd, I’ve had a nightmare!” says she.
Well, that sudden surge shoved that machine ahead, and it headed right down them two planks. It hit the floor and headed right for the openin’ at the head of the stairs, with Tombstone Todd kickin’ at every pedal with his feet and yankin’ at every lever with both hands.
“Whoa, you locoed son of a tin-can!” he yelped.
Wham! Bam! Rer-r-r-r-r-r-ro-o-o-o-o-o-w!