"
"Smith, wait! I tell you this is somehow becoming strangely portentous.
I've got the funniest sensation that something is going to happen to me."
"It will," said Smith, dangerously, "if you don't let go my elbow."
But Beekman Brown, a prey to increasing excitement, clung to his friend.
"Wait just one moment, Jim; something remarkable is likely to occur! I--I
never before felt this way--so strongly--in all my life. Something
extraordinary is certainly about to happen to me."
"It has happened," said his friend, coldly; "you've gone dippy. Also,
we've lost that train. Do you understand?"
"I knew we would. Isn't that curious? I--I believe I can almost tell you
what else is going to happen to us."
"_I'll_ tell _you_," hissed Smith; "it's an ambulance for yours and ding-
dong to the funny-house! _What_ are you trying to do now?" With real
misgiving, for Brown, balanced on the edge of the gutter, began waving
his arms in a birdlike way as though about to launch himself into aerial
flight across Forty-second Street.
"The car!" he exclaimed excitedly, "the cherry-colored cross-town car!
Where is it? Do you see it anywhere, Smith?"
"What? What do you mean? There's no cross-town car in sight. Brown, don't
act like that! Don't be foolish! What on earth----"
"It's coming! There's a car coming!" cried Brown.
"Do you think you're a racing runabout and I'm a curve?"
Brown waved him away impatiently.
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