Casey did not ask whether the driver was going in his direction, but got in chuckling at the small triumph over his enemies, the police.
"Fords are mean cusses," he observed sympathetically.

"They like nothing better than to get a feller in bad.

But they can't pull nothin' on me.

I know 'em to a fare-you-well.

Notice how this one changed 'er mind about gettin' you tagged, soon as Casey Ryan took 'er by the nose ?" "Are you Casey Ryan ?" The driver took his eyes off the traffic long enough to give Casey an appraising look that measured him mentally and physically.