Book3:WereMyDreamIs

eryhighandneverseemedtodrop.It’sreallyperplexingthatinspiteofsuchbeautifulweathertherewerepeoplewhowoulditcrimesandevenmurder.Justthenashrilloldvoicesoundedfromtheseatbehindhim.

    “Excusemesir,IogetoffatBroadwayand13thStreet.Couldyoucallmewheimees?”askedanolddwarfwithalongwhitebeard.Heworeesestylepantsandshirtandamelonshapedcap,buthadnopigtail.Helookedstrangeandoutndish.

    “Suresir,noproblem.Iwillcallyouwhehere;butforyourowy,pleasedon’tleaveyourseatuntilIstopthebus”repliedthedrivergood-naturedly.Heslowlyeasedthebustoastandstilttheopandamuscurman,obviouslydrunkgoton,stillholdingahalfemptybottleofliquor.

    “Ihavenomooday.Iwillpayime”heannounahoarsevoidthenswaggeredarrogantlytowardsthe