Just a bit too fast

When the somewhat forlorn-looking six-cylinder touring car drew up across the street before the Peninsula Park branch bank, I didn't give it a second thought. Neither did Halloran—and if either of us should have noticed, he was the one. He was supposed to know Thought-and-a-half Morgan. No, neither of us gave it a thought; not until we noticed that the seeming-asleep young egg at the wheel had kept his motor running. Then we both dashed across the asphalt in a damned big hurry. Detective Halloran had made a thousand-mile jump to spill his story to my chief—the tip he had, that Thought-and-a-half was about to essay in our fair village of one million souls a few of the strokes that had brought him much notoriety throughout the nation at large—and a considerable price on his head. Halloran's chief back home was due for the sack if this looter of six banks in six days was not chucked in durance vile. He had sent out his star man with some info bulldozed from one of Morgan's minor aids. It was supposed to be infallible stuff; the man Morgan, who had won his moniker by being at least one think-and-a-fraction ahead of the brainiest cop that ever lived, had moved in on us. Halloran said he had practically the entire dope; but my chief, noting with disgust the opportunities taken by Halloran to advertise his own astuteness, and feeling pretty secure over the fact that a major job hadn't been pulled in our village for months, didn't lend an overly receptive ear. He had enough to do, speaking at Rotary and Kiwanis luncheons, and the like; so he merely growled: "You run around with him, Jake, and if you need help lemme know." Those had been my orders. Dashing across toward the bank with Halloran, I wondered if this was the time to report. Well, if it was, it was too late now. Morgan could have taken the bank's foundations with him if we laid back for reënforcements. But maybe this wouldn't be Morgan, I thought, tugging at my armpit to pull my gun free in a second, if need be. Just as Halloran and I dashed into the entryway I caught a side glimpse of the dude behind the wheel. He was watching us, but his talons were resting on the steering-wheel in plain sight. Which is