He got up and went back to have a look at Harmon Pierce Haverstraw,
age five minutes, temporary address, North American Continental
Thruway 26-West, Mile Marker 632.
Fifteen minutes later, mother and baby were in the ambulance heading
north to the hospital. Haverstraw, calmed down with a sedative
administered by Kelly, had nearly wrung their hands off in gratitude
as he said good-by.
"I'll mail you all cigars when I get home," he shouted as he waved and
climbed into his car.
Beulah's trio watched the new father ease carefully into the traffic
as the ambulance headed down the police-way. Haverstraw would have to
cut over to the next exchange and then go north to Indianapolis. He'd
arrive later than his family. This time, he was the very picture of
careful driving and caution as he threaded his way across the green.
"I wonder if he knows what brand of cigars I smoke?" Kelly mused.
* * * * *
The chrono clicked up to 2335 as Car 56 resumed patrol. Kelly plumped
down onto the jump seat beside Ben. Clay was fiddling in the galley.
"Why don't you go back to the sack?" Ben called.
"What, for a lousy twenty-five minutes," Clay replied. "I had a good
nap before you turned the burners up to high. Besides, I'm hungry.
Anyone else want a snack?"
Ben shook his head. "No, thanks," Kelly said. Ferguson finished
slapping together a sandwich. Munching on it, he headed into the
engine room to make the midnight check. Car 56 had now been on patrol
eight hours. Only two hundred thirty-two hours and two thousand miles
to go.
Kelly looked around at the departing back of the younger trooper.
"I'll bet this is the only car in NorCon that has to stock twenty days
of groceries for a ten-day patrol," she said.