Only the Negro and I were near enough to hear what he said but the policeman caught something in the tone and looked over with truculent eyes.

“What's all that?” he demanded.

“I'm a friend of his.” Tom turned his head but kept his hands firm on Wilson's body. “He says he knows the car that did it� . It was a yellow car.”

Some dim impulse moved the policeman to look suspiciously at Tom.

“And what color's your car?”

“It's a blue car, a coup�.”

“We've come straight from New York,” I said.

Some one who had been driving a little behind us confirmed this and the policeman turned away.