The woman seemed to sense the situation for she emerged from her torpor long enough to pour forth a torrent of gibberish which seemed to be somewhat in the nature of self-defense and an elaborate exoneration of the goat. It concluded with a glowing peroration, seemingly, to the effect that Townsend had no right to hang his coat on her woven wire spring. “Tell her you’ll buy the goat and then you’ll have the license card,” called Pee-wee. “How can I buy the goat when the goat’s got all my money?” Townsend asked. “Give her your card and tell her you’ll pay her on the way back,” shouted Pee-wee. “The goat has my cards, too,” said Townsend. “Well, yer ain’t got it then?” sneered Inspector Snagg. “Sure he’s got it but it’s in the goat,” screamed Pee-wee. “Well, you’re a couple of smart, fresh youngsters,” said Inspector Snagg, sweeping aside all argument and explanation. “Now how much gas have you got in that car?” “Oh, a little bit,” said Townsend. “Can’t you listen to an argument?” roared Pee-wee. “Your pal can tell that to the judge,” called the inspector. “He can tell him the goat story. Then if the judge says it’s all right fer kids ter be racin’ along the public highways without—” “You were coming along thirty-five miles an hour yourselves,” shouted Pee-wee; “I’m not afraid of you!” “You stay where you are, Kid,” said Townsend in a tone of kindness mingled with disgust. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back or I’ll send somebody. Take it easy.” He cranked his flivver and it gave Pee-wee a feeling of isolation and homesickness to hear the old engine chugging away and the car shaking and quaking in every bone and joint like a victim of palsy. “Ride on ahead,” said Inspector Snagg as he and his companion stepped into the official car. “Some nerve, huh?” Pee-wee heard one of them say. The flivver with its lone driver looked funny as it rattled along the road with the trim roadster behind it. Pee-wee had never had this view of it before. Being without a top or a back it had a queer look, unlike other cars. It seemed like some hapless hoodlum being taken in for throwing stones. Poor, friendly, faithful, dilapidated, ramshackle little flivver! It made Pee-wee despise all Buicks to see that official car, so smug and trim, following after. The Ford, being topless and backless, Townsend’s form was conspicuous, sitting upright on the front seat as the little cavalcade receded. Pee-wee felt as if the Ford, like Keekie Joe of Barrel Alley, was a member of his patrol. He realized now, as he had not realized before, what a joyous institution was formed by Townsend and his flivver. The twilight was again spreading its dusky coverlet over the country and Pee-wee felt very strange and lonesome. CHAPTER XVIII PEE-WEE DOESN’T WATCH HIS STEP