L
Lil'Lam
Guest
“Boy, thanks for the lift,” exclaimed the young man as he slid off his knapsack and climbed into the front seat of the air-conditioned patrol car beside Sheriff Monahan. “Say, aren’t you going to arrest me for bumming a ride?”
“Not today,” replied the sheriff. “Too busy.”
The young man grinned in relief. He took a chocolate bar from his knapsack, broke off a piece, and offered the rest to the sheriff.
“No, thanks,” said the police officer, accelerating the car.
“You chasing someone?” asked the hitchhiker.
“Four men just held up the First National Bank. They escaped in a big black sedan.”
“Hey,” gasped the hitchhiker. “I saw a black sedan about ten minutes ago. It had four men in it. They nearly ran me off the road. First car I saw in an hour. But they took a left turn. They’re headed west, not north.”
Sheriff Monahan braked the patrol car and swung it around. The young man began peeling an orange, putting the rinds tidily into a paper bag.
“Look at the heat shining off the road ahead,” said the sheriff. “Must be eighty-five in the shade today.”
“Must be,” agreed the hitchhiker. “Wait—you passed the turnoff—where’re you going?”
“To the police station,” snapped the sheriff—a decision to which Haledjian heartily agreed upon hearing the hitchhiker’s story.
How come?
please....i need serious answers.
if u dont know it, please dont answer.
Haledjian is a detective
“Not today,” replied the sheriff. “Too busy.”
The young man grinned in relief. He took a chocolate bar from his knapsack, broke off a piece, and offered the rest to the sheriff.
“No, thanks,” said the police officer, accelerating the car.
“You chasing someone?” asked the hitchhiker.
“Four men just held up the First National Bank. They escaped in a big black sedan.”
“Hey,” gasped the hitchhiker. “I saw a black sedan about ten minutes ago. It had four men in it. They nearly ran me off the road. First car I saw in an hour. But they took a left turn. They’re headed west, not north.”
Sheriff Monahan braked the patrol car and swung it around. The young man began peeling an orange, putting the rinds tidily into a paper bag.
“Look at the heat shining off the road ahead,” said the sheriff. “Must be eighty-five in the shade today.”
“Must be,” agreed the hitchhiker. “Wait—you passed the turnoff—where’re you going?”
“To the police station,” snapped the sheriff—a decision to which Haledjian heartily agreed upon hearing the hitchhiker’s story.
How come?
please....i need serious answers.
if u dont know it, please dont answer.
Haledjian is a detective