Miss Shumway Waves A Wand

“Chalco’s a few miles on,” she returned, “I’ll stop there, hand you over to the police and then find myself a hotel.”

“On the other hand, if we take turns driving,” I said carefully, “we could reach Orizaba first thing in the morning. I know a swell hotel in Orizaba where you’ll have every luxury in the world—if the world goes no further than Mexico.”

She thought about this. “Well,” she said at last, “I wouldn’t like to sleep in this car and let you drive. You might get ideas.”

“Well, of course, if you’re scared of me,” I said, shrugging.

“Who said I was scared of you?” That seemed to annoy her, “I haven’t met anything on two legs that could scare me.”

“That sounds like famous last words. But, if that’s how you feel, Apple pie, give me the wheel and take a nap,” I said grinning at her.

She hesitated for a second, then stopped the car. She looked at me hard and then a smile came into her eyes. This dame was certainly something to see. Apart from the fact that she represented 25,000 dollars to me, she looked good. When I say good I mean there wasn’t another woman in the country who could get within a mile of her. I like blondes. They may be a little dizzy, but they rest my eyes. That’s my only form of recreation.

“Listen, brother,” she said. “If there’s anything coming from you that’s not strictly off the top deck, I’ll cut your lights out.”

“Would you let me see them before I die?” I asked anxiously. “I’ve always wanted to make Ripley.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she returned and got out of the car.

I slid over and took the wheel.

“There’s more room in the back for sleeping,” she said, getting in and leaving me by myself. “Besides, I’ve got a tyre lever here and I’ll bounce it on your head if you get off the main road. And I won’t send you a telegram before I do it.”

“To hear you talk,” I said, starting the car, “no one would know you had a sentimental streak. “But, seriously, Angel skin, you could trust me with your life.”

“If I did that,” she said, “I’d swap my girdle for a straight jacket.”

After a while, I guess she must have gone to sleep. I sent the Cadillac tearing into the night. It was certainly’ a fine bus and the miles kept clicking up on the dashboard. I expected her to wake up after an hour or so and take over, but she kept on sleeping. I guess the kid was tired. She didn’t wake up until I was bumping over the cobbles that led to the outskirts of Orizaba. Then I heard a little gasp and she said, “Why it’s daylight. Have I been sleeping all this time?”

“Well, someone’s been snoring in my ear,” I returned, as I swung the Cadillac into the main street. “If it wasn’t you, we’ve got a stranger on board.”

“I don’t snore,” she said coldly and I could hear her hunting in her bag for the inevitable powder and puff.

“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You don’t have to be shy with me.” I pulled up outside a small hotel in pink stone.

“I liked the sound. It made me homesick.”

“Homesick?” she asked as I twisted round to look at her.

“Sure,” I said. “At one time I used to live on a farm.” Then I got out of the car hurriedly.

“Just wait here and I’ll fix things. Do you want a room or just a bath and coffee?”

“No room,” she said firmly.

It only crossed my mind after I had dug out the hotel manager and had introduced myself, that I was crazy to leave her out there in the car. But I need not have worked myself into a lather, because she was still there when I came out.

“I’ve got it all fixed,” I said, opening the car door. “Bath first and breakfast on the verandah. Eggs, fruit and coffee. That suit?”

She got out of the car with a small grip in her hand. “It certainly does,” she said, and for the first time she gave me a friendly smile.

I felt I might be getting somewhere with this dame. “Join me for breakfast down here in about half an hour,” I said.

“Then we’ll both let our hair down and confide in each other.”

She shook her head. “I enjoy my own company,” she returned. “I’ve given you a lift as we agreed, now I think I’ll say goodbye.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, taking her firmly by the arm and leading her towards the hotel. “Who’s going to pay for my breakfast, if you run out on me?”

Chapter FOUR

As Mexican towns go, Orizaba could be worse. From Mexico City it is a long drop to Orizaba. In sixty odd miles you go down six thousand odd feet. That makes a lot of difference in atmosphere. The air thickens and the heat takes on a fiercer strength.

Sitting on the verandah overlooking the square where some small Indian soldiers in their grubby uniforms watched us with blank expressionless eyes, I felt pretty good. The bath had been just right and I was glad to get outside for some food.

On the far side of the square was the flower market. Although it was still early, Indian women were already at work, binding, sprinkling and sorting all kinds of flowers. The heavy scent came across the square and hung round us. “I’m glad we came here,” I said. “I feel this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”