Several minutes passed and Clint viewed the clock in front of a jewelry store across the street apprehensively.

It was seventeen minutes of five.

He tugged Amy's sleeve.
"Come on," he said.

"We don't want to miss this one." "Right-o," replied Amy.

"Let's see, though, if he makes it this time." "Say, one of you fellows pull that throttle down when I get her going, will you ?" asked the automobilist.