MOTOR-CAR DRAMA

Taranaki Daily News, 22 March 1935, Page 5

MOTOR-CAR DRAMA

MISTAKE AND DISCOVERY. MAN WHO WAS VERY SORRY. Drama came to a street at Christchurch last Monday. There stood a constable, notebook in hand, pencil busy. Before him stood a man, pale with grief and danger, yet manfully, as he told his tale, fighting to keep a close grip on his surcharged feelings. Before them stood a gleaming baby car, and hemming in the principals was an everincreasing crowd. “Yes,” said the man, as he retold his tale. “I had been in the insurance building over there. When I went to my car, the spare wheel was missing, and all the gear taken out.” “Worth £4O, I think you said,” observed the constable, and the information went into his little black book.

And then appeared another character; one grasped at once that he was also a principal in the drama. The crowd parted before his purposeful stride. “Hi,” he exclaimed. “What’s wrong? What are you doing with my car?” “Your car!” exclaimed the man who had invoked the aid of the forces of the law. “Your car . . .” His gaze settled on the car before him, then wandered down the street. It rested on a baby car, of the same make and model and similar in colour, that just poked its face into view two chains away from the bulk of a heavy car. The man’s face reflected emotions in conflict. Doubt warred with conviction, amazement with shame. He blushed; he stammered; he was awfully sorry, but he had found he had made a mistake. Yes, this one wasn’t his car. He had thought it was.