“Ah—now it comes!”
A long finger was tapping his shoulder.
“Stop!” commanded the passenger.
Tom looked hastily about him, but could see no building suggestive of a court-house.
The machine drew up to the curb and came to a halt.
“I certainly am much obliged to you, son.”
“Eh? What do you mean?” queried Tom, in surprise.
The little man’s eyes were twinkling merrily. Suddenly he burst into a series of loud guffaws, while young Clifton’s look of astonishment momentarily increased.
“Ain’t I speakin’ English?”
“Hang it all; I—I don’t understand it.”