At that exact moment a voice spoke behind us. “I beg your pardon, gentlemen.” It was one of those clear, soft voices with little tinkling bells in it. Know what I mean?
Slim turned and stared. “Madam,” he said, “don’t you know the sign says ‘No Admittance’?”
She looked repentant. “I’m sorry.” She looked hurt. “I didn’t think you gentlemen would mind.” She turned as if to go.
I saw Slim melting down. I didn’t blame him. That girl could have melted tungsten. Yes, I recognized her from her pictures in the society section—the mayor’s wife.
Slim was apologizing. “I beg your pardon, Madam. It’s quite all right. Your loveliness and radiant beauty just startled us. We—”
While Slim was laying it on thick, the building inspector’s car was expanding. Now it became considerably too big for the stall and split it like a stick of dynamite going off in a shoebox. It split it into a thousand pieces and then stood there, a passenger car seven feet tall.
The mayor’s wife gave a little scream of delight. Slim gave a horrified gasp. I tried to faint.
“Oh,” she said, “such a big car!”
Slim moaned. “Please, Madam, will you leave now?”
She looked hurt again. “Yes, but will you please put this package in my car?”
“I will,” said Slim, through tight jaws. “But—”
“Why, that looks just like the building inspector’s car,” she said, wide-eyed. “It’s his number, too.”