“How about borrowing the jeep for a bit?” Hook said. “Maybe you’d like to borrow my wife, take her for a spin and then back to your caboose like them other poor girls.” “You don’t have a wife.” “And now you know why,” he said. Hook kicked his foot up on the platform. “Well?” “Well, what?” Hook scratched his head. “Can I borrow the jeep or not? I want to go talk to Sheriff Mueller.” “I guess you won’t be drinking and getting tickets and such?” “I hadn’t planned on it, Scrap.” “And you might put a little gas in her while you at it,” he said, handing him the keys. “Did you get those headlights fixed?” Hook asked. Scrap knocked his pipe against the heel of his shoe before blowing it out. “I take care of my equipment, Hook.” “Where did you get them?” “That old school bus back by the fence.” “Jeez, Scrap. A school bus?” “Course, you could always drive railroad vehicles, I suppose.” Hook picked up the keys and walked to the door.
