Now, of course, it is too bad
he is injure' wit' the clob of the policeman; but those officer is
ver' polite, senor, and if he is explain biffore--"
Weeks snorted indignantly. "He gave you that fairy tale, eh? He
said his name was Anthony and his father was a railroad president,
didn't he? Well, he imposed on me, too, but his name is Locke,
and, as near as I can learn, he practically stowed away on the
SANTA CRUZ."
"Ah-h!" The officer's eyes widened as he turned them upon his
prisoner. "He is then a w'at you call tramp."
"All I know is, he stuck me for a lot of bills. I'll have to see
that he gets fair treatment, I suppose, because he's an American,
but that ends my duty."
"Is this the best you'll do for me?" Kirk inquired, as Weeks made
ready to go.
"Yes."
"Will you tell some of the men at the Wayfarers that I'm here?"
"Oh, that won't do any good. You're in for it, Locke, so don't
holler. I'll be on hand at your hearing."
"Will you cable my father?"
"At twenty-five cents a word? Hardly!" The speaker mopped his
face, exclaiming: "There's no use of talking, I've got to get out
in the air; it's too hot in here for me." Then he waddled out
ahead of Senor Alfarez, who slammed the door behind him as he
followed to escort his caller to the street.
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