"I didn't say we was enemies," amended Mrs. Ryan, a bit softened in mood by Danny's chaffing. He patted her cheek and kissed her. "Go long with you, now," she said. "And good luck to you, Speedy, though it's bad luck if you land the job with Jerry, I'm tellin' you."
"Got to hurry up," urged Danny when they reached the sidewalk. "I'm late. And Moore is a bear for having his men on time."
They walked briskly the three blocks to the garage of the Only One Taxi Co. The huge folding doors were open and the air was full of the smoke and noise of starting motors. They had to stand aside at the entrance to allow three or four yellow cabs to roar out. Once in, Speedy witnessed a strange ceremony. Each car, as it started on its daily round, was required first to speed up a sharply angled wooden runway on one side of the garage and come to a dead stop when halfway up the hill. Then it leaped forward again, proceeded at high speed over the top of the incline and down the other side. Halfway down, it once more came to an abrupt full stop and then was allowed to glide out into the street and on its way.
"Testin' the brakes," Danny explained to Speedy. "Taxi brakes always have to be workin' perfect. You'll smash up sure if they aren't. Moore insists on this test every morning before we go out and won't release a car if the brakes aren't O.K. All the big taxi companies work the same way."
They located Jerry Moore in his dinky little office. He proved to be a squatty red-faced man, with an
