go out
and hit somebody the first crack out of the box. I want one that's
been broke in."

"Well," I laughs, "that's what you're gettin', believe me! That there
thing has been broke in and out!" I turns to I. Markowitz. "What make
is the old boiler?" I asks him.

"Boiler he calls it!" he says, throwin' up his hands and lookin' at the
ceilin'. "It's an A. G. F. I suppose even you know what an A number
one car that is, don't you?"

"No!" I answers. "But I know what A. G. F. means."

He falls.

"What?" he wants to know.

"Always Gettin' Fixed!" I tells him. "They make all them used cars. I
know a guy had two of them and between 'em they made a fortune for
three garages and five lawyers! How old is it?"

"Old!" says I. Markowitz, recovering "Who said it was old? Your wife
should be as young as that car! It was turned in here last week, only
eight short days from the factory. The owner was sudden called he
should go out of town and--"

"And he went somewheres and got an automobile to make the trip," I cuts
him off, "and left this thing here!"

"Don't mind him!" says the Kid, gettin' impatient. "Gimme a receipt."
He digs down for the roll.

While I. Markowitz is countin' the money with lovin' fingers, I went
around to one side of the so called auto and looked at the speedometer.
One flash at the little trick clock was ample.

"Stop!" I yells, glarin' at him. "How long did you say this car had
been out of the factory?"

"Right away he hollers at me!" says I. Markowitz to the Kid. "A week."

"Well," I tells him, "all I got to say is that the bird that had it
must have been fleein' the police! He certainly seen a lot of the
world, but I can't figure how he slept. He was what you could call a
motorin' fool. It says on this speedometer here, 45,687 miles and if
that guy did it in a week, I got to hand it to him! I'll bet he's so
nutty over speed that he's goin' around now bein' shot out of cannons
from place to place, eh?"

I. Markowitz gets kinda balled up and blows his nose twice.

"That must be the--the--motor number!" he stammers.

"Sure!" nods the Kid. "Don't mind him, he's always got the hammer out.
Count that change and gimme a receipt."

"Wait!" I says. "Gimme one more chance to save you from givin'
yourself the work. Have you heard the motor turn over? Does the
clutch slip in all right? Do the brakes work? Has the--"

"Say!" butts in the Kid. "What d'ye think I been doin