before, mack?” the youth asked, smiling roguishly.
“Kindly call me ‘sir’.”
“Please to meet yah, sir. I’m Ronald.”
Tuohay squinted through the rain. “How old are you, Ronald?”
“Turn twelve tomorr’a, sir. How ‘bout you?”
“Never mind, boy.” Tuohay studied the youth. “Are you certain that you are capable of handling this thing?”
“Been do’n it for a full month now. Think I got her down pretty well.”
“Splendid.”
“It sure is, sir. Cuh’ve Dash Olds. Only four hundred of ‘em on the road. You’re a lucky fella to hop a ride in one.”
“Is that so?” Tuohay pulled on his gloves. “Shall we?”
“You’re in charge.” The boy clamped the safety off with his right hand and thrust the gear shift forward. The auto jerked to the fore and nearly sent Tuohay tumbling off the seat. Grabbing the steering rod to save himself, Tuohay inadvertently yanked the control from the youth and the Olds twisted sharply onto the sidewalk. With lightning fast reflexes the boy grabbed the steering rod back and yanked it the opposite direction. The auto swerved to the left and bounced back onto the road with a thud. Righting their course, the young driver howled with laughter.
“Close ‘un, sir! But we’re on track now.” The boy wrenched the steering rod to his chest, and the Olds squealed left into the fog bank. Tuohay cried out, expecting to see a brick wall materialize before them, but they passed through its gate, just barely visible in the concealing haze.
“How can you see anything in this fog?” Tuohay shouted above the rattle of the motor.
“Don’t need to. I know this route by ha’t.”
Tuohay watched in sickened amazement as they slashed their way through the impenetrable pea soup, the light of the lantern dissolving into a gray nothingness mere inches ahead of the auto. “This is absurd.”
“Oy?”
“Nothing. Concentrate on the road.”
“Hold on, sir. ‘Er’s a rough patch com’n up.”
“Hold on? To what?” Tuohay grabbed the finger-thin iron rail pressing against his left thigh. It was the only thing between him and the road below. The Olds suddenly began shuddering like an earthquake. Tuohay gritted his teeth against the vibration.
“We call this run the salt shak’a!” said the boy, his voice quivering.
“What in heaven’s name are we driving over?” The ground had changed from cobblestone to treaded dirt to patchy grass. One of the wheels snatched a fallen branch that snapped apart in a spray of splinters.
“Short cut, sir,” replied the boy, staring into the fog.
“Indeed,” Tuohay muttered.
Several large stones blinked in and out of the haze as the auto sped past. The fog shrouded the scattered stones ominously, rows of ghostly soldiers lined up in perfect order. Tuohay watched with morbid curiosity as they continued past the strange sight until a realization struck him. “Are those….?”
“Oy. Tombstones. Don’t worry ‘bout them none, sir, I know where they be.”
“We are in a graveyard,” Tuohay stated matter-of-factly, his senses numb to any more surprises.
“There’s a path through it, sir.”
“I would hope so.”
The rattling suddenly ceased, followed by the drawing back of the fog. The auto lurched left again, but this time Tuohay was ready. He held on to the rail firmly with one hand and his top hat with the other as a wide trolley road opened before them.
“Central Street. Nearly there, sir,” the boy said, shifting down a gear as he made a smooth right turn.
Tuohay suddenly remembered the Derringer. It was back in his bedroom where he had left it in his hasty exit. “Kill the motor before we get to Province Court.”
“Sir?”
“I would like to be as discreet as possible.”
“Yes sir.”
Tuohay recognized the area. A quiet gloom had settled over the buildings, but even as late as it was, a scattering of lights glowed from various windows. The street remained empty, however.
The boy slipped
“Kindly call me ‘sir’.”
“Please to meet yah, sir. I’m Ronald.”
Tuohay squinted through the rain. “How old are you, Ronald?”
“Turn twelve tomorr’a, sir. How ‘bout you?”
“Never mind, boy.” Tuohay studied the youth. “Are you certain that you are capable of handling this thing?”
“Been do’n it for a full month now. Think I got her down pretty well.”
“Splendid.”
“It sure is, sir. Cuh’ve Dash Olds. Only four hundred of ‘em on the road. You’re a lucky fella to hop a ride in one.”
“Is that so?” Tuohay pulled on his gloves. “Shall we?”
“You’re in charge.” The boy clamped the safety off with his right hand and thrust the gear shift forward. The auto jerked to the fore and nearly sent Tuohay tumbling off the seat. Grabbing the steering rod to save himself, Tuohay inadvertently yanked the control from the youth and the Olds twisted sharply onto the sidewalk. With lightning fast reflexes the boy grabbed the steering rod back and yanked it the opposite direction. The auto swerved to the left and bounced back onto the road with a thud. Righting their course, the young driver howled with laughter.
“Close ‘un, sir! But we’re on track now.” The boy wrenched the steering rod to his chest, and the Olds squealed left into the fog bank. Tuohay cried out, expecting to see a brick wall materialize before them, but they passed through its gate, just barely visible in the concealing haze.
“How can you see anything in this fog?” Tuohay shouted above the rattle of the motor.
“Don’t need to. I know this route by ha’t.”
Tuohay watched in sickened amazement as they slashed their way through the impenetrable pea soup, the light of the lantern dissolving into a gray nothingness mere inches ahead of the auto. “This is absurd.”
“Oy?”
“Nothing. Concentrate on the road.”
“Hold on, sir. ‘Er’s a rough patch com’n up.”
“Hold on? To what?” Tuohay grabbed the finger-thin iron rail pressing against his left thigh. It was the only thing between him and the road below. The Olds suddenly began shuddering like an earthquake. Tuohay gritted his teeth against the vibration.
“We call this run the salt shak’a!” said the boy, his voice quivering.
“What in heaven’s name are we driving over?” The ground had changed from cobblestone to treaded dirt to patchy grass. One of the wheels snatched a fallen branch that snapped apart in a spray of splinters.
“Short cut, sir,” replied the boy, staring into the fog.
“Indeed,” Tuohay muttered.
Several large stones blinked in and out of the haze as the auto sped past. The fog shrouded the scattered stones ominously, rows of ghostly soldiers lined up in perfect order. Tuohay watched with morbid curiosity as they continued past the strange sight until a realization struck him. “Are those….?”
“Oy. Tombstones. Don’t worry ‘bout them none, sir, I know where they be.”
“We are in a graveyard,” Tuohay stated matter-of-factly, his senses numb to any more surprises.
“There’s a path through it, sir.”
“I would hope so.”
The rattling suddenly ceased, followed by the drawing back of the fog. The auto lurched left again, but this time Tuohay was ready. He held on to the rail firmly with one hand and his top hat with the other as a wide trolley road opened before them.
“Central Street. Nearly there, sir,” the boy said, shifting down a gear as he made a smooth right turn.
Tuohay suddenly remembered the Derringer. It was back in his bedroom where he had left it in his hasty exit. “Kill the motor before we get to Province Court.”
“Sir?”
“I would like to be as discreet as possible.”
“Yes sir.”
Tuohay recognized the area. A quiet gloom had settled over the buildings, but even as late as it was, a scattering of lights glowed from various windows. The street remained empty, however.
The boy slipped
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