“I’m only a little bunch,” he confided, “but when I worked in lumber camps me pals said I were as strong as a steel trap; and that’s pretty near so. Nobody has ever put me off an automobile yit.” He laughed softly. “Feel like trying it?”
“Who are you?” asked Tom, wrathfully.
The man settled the matter beyond all question. From an inside pocket he produced a small, ominous-looking shield.
“How does that strike ye?” he asked, mildly.
“Then you’re a—a constable, after all?”
“If ye’d guessed a year ye couldn’t hev guessed better. This is a free country; but when the majesty o’ the law has been damaged fifteen dollars’ worth——”
“But I didn’t scorch—an’ you know it!” cried Tom.
“Softly, young feller. It’s lucky for you Jack Piker didn’t see that last lap o’ yourn, that’s all. I’m an easier man than him.”
“I could have gone twice as fast,” insisted Clifton, angrily.
“So much the worse if ye had.”