THE BLUE FEATHER
395
“Your word’s good ‘nough for me. He looks like he’s in a big
hurry. Eat that éclair on your way to pulling him over. Let’s see
who can catch him first. Loser has to buy donuts for a month.”
“You’re on!” Billy Bob jumped on the gas pedal of his cruiser
and flipped on his blue lights. The race was on to see which
brother would catch Tital’s truck first. Tital had been careful, but
the timing of stoplights to boost income for local government
officials is not a new idea. You just can’t fine too many local
people, they will complain. It’s always best to pick on strangers.
Billy Bob knew they never have the time, or money to fight the
system. That’s what the officer’s uncle had told them, “Go after
strangers, they will always pay.”
“What’s the next town, Jonathan?” Tital asked over the radio.
“One hundred and twenty-eight kilometers due south, it’s
Newcomb. There’s nothing out here but prairie,” Jonathan
radioed back.
“Tell Bardala to step on it, there’s no traffic out here today,”
Ek Chuah told Jonathan over the radio.
“Okay, will do,” Jonathan returned.
“What’s that coming up fast behind you? It must be an
ambulance, slow down and let them pass,” Bardala said over the
radio minutes later.
“It doesn’t look like an ambulance to me. It looks like the
New Mexico Highway Patrol again. Let them go around us, there
must be a problem up ahead,” Tital answered, as he slowed
down, and pulled off the road to let them go by safely. He pulled
in behind Bardala’s Expedition. One Highway Patrol car pulled in
front of Bardala’s truck, blocking her path. Sensing trouble, Tital