icuously around the corner of
the garage, came forward and eyed the Ford sharply. He drew his little
book from his pocket, turned a few leaves, found what he was looking
for and eyed again the car. The garage man, slowly turning the crank
of the gasoline pump, looked at him inquiringly; but the speed cop
ignored the look and turned to Casey.

"Where'd you get this car?" he demanded, in much the same tone which
Smiling Lou had used the night before.

"Bought it," Casey told him gruffly.

"Where did you buy it?"

"Over at Goffs, just this side of Needles."

"Got a bill of sale?"

"You got Casey Ryan's word fer it," Casey retorted, with a growing heat
inside, where he kept his temper when he wasn't using it.

"Are you Casey Ryan?" The speed cop's eyes hardened just a bit.

"Anybody says I ain't, you send 'em to me--an' then come around in
about ten minutes an' look 'em over."

"What's YOUR name?" The officer turned to Jim Cassidy.

"Tom Smith. I was just ketchin' a ride with this feller. Don't go an'
mix ME in--I ain't no ways concerned; just ketchin' a ride is all. If
I'd 'a' knowed--"

"You can explain that to the judge. Get in there, you, and drive in to
San Berdoo. I'll be right with you, so you needn't forget the road!"
He stepped back to his motorcycle and pushed it forward.

"Hey! Don't I git paid fer my gas?" the garage man wailed, pulling a
dripping nozzle from Casey's gas tank.

"Aw, go tahell!" Casey grunted, and threw a wadded bank note in his
direction. "Take that an' shut up. What yuh cryin' around about a
gallon uh gas, fer? YOU ain't pinched!"

The money landed near the motorcycle and the officer picked it up,
smoothed out the bill, glanced at it and looked through tightened lids
at Casey.

"Throwin' money around like a hootch-runner!" he sneered. "I guess you
birds need lookn' after, all right. Git goin'!"

Casey "got going." Twice on the way in the officer spurted up
alongside and waved him down for speeding. Casey had not intended to
speed, either. He was merely keeping pace unconsciously with his
thoughts.

He had been told just what he must do if he were arrested for
bootlegging, but he was not at all certain that his instructions would
cover an arrest for stealing an automobile. Nolan had forgotten about
that, he guessed. But Casey's optimism carried him jauntily to jail in
San Bernardino, and while he was secretly a bit uneasy, he was not half
so worried as J