An instant later, as they skipped round a bend of the long, high-hung

shelf road, he pretended to sway dangerously on the running-board, and

deliberately laid his filthy hand on her shoulder. Before she could say

anything he yelped in mock-regret, "Love o' Mike! 'Scuse me, lady. I

almost fell off."

Quietly, seriously, Claire said, "No, that wasn't accidental. If you

touch me again, I'll stop the car and ask you to walk."

"Better do it now, dolly!" snapped Mr. Boltwood.

The man hooked his left arm about the side-post of the open

window-shield. It was a strong arm, a firm grip. He seized her left

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wrist with his free hand. Though all the while his eyes grotesquely kept

their amused sparkle, and beside them writhed laughter-wrinkles, he

shouted hoarsely, "You'll stop hell!" His hand slid from her wrist to

the steering wheel. "I can drive this boat's well as you can. You make

one move to stop, and I steer her over---- Blooie! Down the bank!"

He did twist the front wheels dangerously near to the outer edge of the

shelf road. Mr. Boltwood gazed at the hand on the wheel. With a quick

breath Claire looked at the side of the road. If the car ran off, it

would shoot down forty feet ... turning over and over.

"Y-you wouldn't dare, because you'd g-go, too!" she panted.

"Well, dearuh, you just try any monkey business and you'll find out how

much I'll gggggggo-too! I'll start you down the joy-slope and jump off,

savvy? Take your foot off that clutch."

She obeyed.

"Pretty lil feet, ain't they, cutie! Shoes cost about twelve bucks, I

reckon. While a better man than you or old moldy-face there has to hit

the pike in three-dollar brogans. Sit down, yuh fool!"

This last to Mr. Boltwood, who had stood up, swaying with the car, and

struck at him. With a huge arm the man swept Mr. Boltwood back into the

seat, but without a word to her father, he continued to Claire: "And keep your hand where it belongs. Don't go trying to touch that

switch. Aw, be sensible! What would you do if the car did stop? I could

blackjack you both before this swell-elegant vehickle lost momentum,

savvy? I don't want to pay out my good money to a lawyer on a charge

of--murder. Get me? Better take it easy and not worry." His hand was

constantly on the wheel. He had driven cars before. He was steering as

much as she. "When I get you up the road a piece I'm going to drive all

the cute lil boys and girls up a side trail, and take all of papa's

gosh-what-a-wad in the cunnin' potet-book, and I guess we'll kiss lil

daughter, and drive on, a-wavin' our hand politely, and let you suckers

walk to the next burg."