He drew his little book from his pocket, turned a few leaves, found what he was looking for and eyed again the car.

The garage man, slowly turning the crank of the gasoline pump, looked at him inquiringly; but the speed cop ignored the look and turned to Casey.
"Where'd you get this car ?" he demanded, in much the same tone which Smiling Lou had used the night before.
"Bought it," Casey told him gruffly.
"Where did you buy it ?" "Over at Goffs, just this side of Needles." "Got a bill of sale ?" "You got Casey Ryan's word fer it," Casey retorted, with a growing heat inside, where he kept his temper when he wasn't using it.
"Are you Casey Ryan ?" The speed cop's eyes hardened just a bit.
"Anybody says I ain't, you send 'em to me--an' then come around in about ten minutes an' look 'em over." "What's YOUR name ?" The officer turned to Jim Cassidy.
"Tom Smith.

I was just ketchin' a ride with this feller.

Don't go an' mix ME in--I ain't no ways concerned; just ketchin' a ride is all.

If I'd 'a' knowed--" "You can explain that to the judge.