Absolutely inexcusable,” said Splendor Mainwaring, as Reinhart drove around the courthouse block and passed the entrance to the jail on the back street. “But in my defense let me say I thought you would immediately recognize my voice.” “How could I recognize you with that fake lisp?” Reinhart demanded. Unfortunately the Gigantic had an automatic shift, and he could not relieve his rage by stripping the gears. “You seem to think I devote my life to studying your habits. You mean nothing to me. Nothing. I owe you no obligation whatever, and I’ll thank you to stop trying to claim one for me. What did I get out of your last caper?” “Well,” Splendor answered shyly, “you surely did better than I with it.” Reinhart swung impetuously into the curb in the center of a block. A middle-aged pedestrian stared in frightened supposition that they had chosen him on this hot afternoon to swoop down on and rob, this satchel-faced Negro and this enormous lout: at least such was Reinhart’s apprehension.
