human
Chee, wot a bump!
gpt
What's the matter?
human
Brisco tried t' knock over a hill wit' his hind wheels, yelled Josh,
gpt
So are we, screamed Matt,
human
Fifty-eight miles an hour.
gpt
Ever race dat runabout afore?
human
Yes.
gpt
W'ch winned?
human
The Flier--by a fluke. I scattered glass in the road--the runabout got into it and went lame.
gpt
Got any glass along now?
human
Yes, in the tonneau; but----
gpt
None dere now, cull.
human
Then Brisco must have thrown it out. It'll all right, though. This is going to be our race.
gpt
We'd better keep our lamps skinned f'r Fairview. It's on'y seventy-five miles from w'ere we started, an we're goin' so fast we might run past de place an' never see it.
human
How's the runabout coming?
gpt
Gainin'! whooped the boy.
human
Oh, sister, how she's comin'! Wisht I had some glass.
gpt
She'll never catch us, Josh!
human
How's dat?
gpt
Because I've fixed her so she won't.
human
I hope yous ain't shy in yer calkilations, Matt. Dem blokes'll sure kill us if we drops into deir hands.
gpt
Watch her, Josh! Tell me when her speed slackens, or when anything goes wrong.
human
She ain't slackenin' none yet, an' nuttin' ain't gone wrong.
gpt
Well, watch and tell me.