The first six miles of the easy journey were soon traversed.
Then, with a pop and a dispiritedly swishing sound, a rear tire
collapsed. Out into the road jumped both men. Their nerves were
none too steady. And, already, in fancy they could hear all the
police cars in New Jersey close at their heels. It behooved them
to change tires in a hurry, and to finish their nerve-twisting
trip.
The driver vaulted over the side nearest him and began to explore
the under-seat regions for a jack. The other man picked up the
baby and hurried to the rear of the runabout to detach the spare
tire from its dusty rack. Manifestly, he could not unstrap the
tire while he was carrying a baby in his arms. So he set down his
burden at the roadside, near him.
Then, still obsessed by fear of pursuit, he hit on a safer
scheme. Picking up the sleeper again, he carried the warm little
bundle to the far side of the road, some thirty yards beyond, and
deposited it there, behind a dwarf alder bush which screened it
from any stray automobilist who might be passing. Thus, in case
of pursuit, he and his brother would merely be changing tires;
and would know nothing of any missing baby.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316