"Ford," Wheeler said slowly. "A fifty-three model."
Forsythe picked a package off the stack in the rear and made out a
receipt for the check. "You won't complain. You'll get close to a
hundred and ninety-five."
Wise, Manning thought again, bitterly. He picked up the package. "See
you around, Forsythe. Soon."
Outside, Manning shot a glance back at the building and the neat
lettering on the second floor window. "I think we ought to test that
carburetor ourselves. And I think we ought to check up on our friend
Forsythe."