It isn't far across
the line, an' there won't be no trouble in getting back without
nobody knowin' anything about it--if you get him."
"All right," said Flannagan, his visions of five hundred
already dwindled to a possible one.
It was but a little past one o'clock that a touring car rolled
south out of Kansas City with Detective Sergeant Flannagan
in the front seat with the driver and two burly representatives
of Missouri law in the back.
CHAPTER V
ONE TURN DESERVES ANOTHER
WHEN the two tramps approached the farmhouse at which
Billy had purchased food a few hours before the farmer's wife
called the dog that was asleep in the summer kitchen and took
a shotgun down from its hook beside the door.
From long experience the lady was a reader of character--
of hobo character at least--and she saw nothing in the
appearance of either of these two that inspired even a modicum
of confidence. Now the young fellow who had been there
earlier in the day and who, wonder of wonders, had actually
paid for the food she gave him, had been of a different stamp.
His clothing had proclaimed him a tramp, but, thanks to the
razor Bridge always carried, he was clean shaven. His year of
total abstinence had given him clear eyes and a healthy skin.
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