The Adventures of Augie March - Saul Bellow [106]
was very thick; I wouldn't have liked to see it used. "Why do they have t'be all the time hittin'? Maybe because they talk with their hands." Stoney and Wolfy grinned, wishing to be of the same humor as the cops. "Well, is anything broke under them bandages?" "They took a couple of stitches on his dome." The bloody-haired topple-bandage was pushed into the light where the sergeant could see. "Well," he said when he had looked, "take an' lock 'em up till we can see if we can get an interpreter tomorrow, and if we can't, then just kick 'em out in the morning. What would they do with this cocky in the workhouse? Anyway, a night in the clink will show them they aren't alone by themselves in the world and can't be carryin' on as if they was." We were next, and I had meantime been worrying about a connection between Joe German's arrest and our being picked up, but there was no such connection. There was only that shirt in the back seat of the stolen Buick to trace me by. The laundry mark. That was farfetched, but I didn't know what else to think. I was relieved when I heard what they had us in for: theft of automobile parts from wrecking yards. "We've never been in Detroit before," I said. "We just arrived in town." "Yeah, where from?" "Cleveland. We're hitchhiking." "You're a sonofabiteh liar. You belong to the Foley gang and you been stealing car parts. But we caught up with you. We'll get all you guys." s* p^" I said, "But we're not even from Detroit. I'm from Chicago." "Where you goin'?" "Home." "That's a fine way to get to Chicago from Cleveland, by way of this town. Your story stinks." He started on Stoney. "Where're you gonna say you come from?" "Pennsy." "Where's that?" "Near Wilkes Barre." "And where you headin' for?" "Nebraska, to study to be a vet'narian." "And what's that?" "About dogs and horses." "About Fords and Chevvies, you mean, you little asswipe hoodlum! And you, where's home for you, what's your story?" He started on Wolfy. "I'm from Pennsylvania too." "Whereabouts?" "Around Scranton. It's a little town." "How little is it?" "About five hundred population or so." "And what's the name of it?" "It ain't much of a name." "I bet. Well, tell me, what is it?" He said, his eyes moving tensely, which was poison to his effort to smile easily. "The name of it is Drumtown." "It must be a tough little hole to breed up rats like you. Okay, we'll see where it is on the map." He opened his drawer. "It ain't on the map. It's too small." "That's okay, if it has a name it'll be on my map. It's got them all." "What I mean is it ain't really incorporated. It's just a little burg and hasn't got around to be incorporated yet." "What do they do there?" "Dig up a little coal. Nothin' much." "Hard coal or soft coal?" "Both," said Wolfy, sinking his head and still grinning a little; but his underiip was somewhat withdrawn from his teeth and his sinews were out. "You belong to Foley's gang, friend," the sergeant said. ^No, I never been in this town before." 'Fetch me Jimmy," the sergeant instructed one of the cops. Jimmy came, slow and old, from the narrow stairs of the lower cells; his flesh was like a stout old woman's; he was wearing cloth slippers and a front-buttoned sweater holding up his wide breasts; he seemed to die a little with every breath. But his eyes were as explicit as otherwise everything was vague about this gray, yellow, and white-haired head, bent with weakness. The eyes, however, trained so they were foreign to anything but their long-time function, they had no personal regard. This Jimmy gazed on Stoney and me and passed us and his look rested on Wolfy. To him he said, "You was in here three years ago. You rolled a guy, and you got six months. It won't be three years yet till May. One month more." This great classifying organ of a police brain! "Well, Bumhead, Pennsylvania?" said the sergeant. "That's right, I did six months. But I don't know Foley, that's the truth, and never stole car parts. I don't know anything about cars." "Lock 'em all up." We had to empty our pockets; they were after knives and matches and