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Montag put his cards down

"Tired, Montag? Going out of this game?"

"Yes"

"Hold on Well, come to think of it, we can finish this hand later Just leave your cards face down and hustle the equip, you don't look well? I'd hate to think you were co doith another fever"

"I'll be all right"

"You'll be fine This is a special case Come on, jump for it!"

They leapt into the air and clutched the brass pole as if it were the last vantage point above a tidal wave passing below, and then the brass pole, to their dish and suction of the gaseous dragon roaring to life!

"Hey!"

They rounded a corner in thunder and siren, with concussion of tires, with screalittery brass tank, like the food in the sto off the silver rail, swinging into cold space, with the wind tearing his hair back fro in his teeth, and hi of the woht, with the kernels blown out fro of a book to the to put out fires ater pistols, how senseless and insane One rage turned in for another One anger displacing another When would he stop being entirely mad and be quiet, be very quiet indeed?

"Here we go!"

Montag looked up Beatty never drove, but he was driving tonight, slah on the driver's throne, hisout behind so that he seeine, over the brass nu the full wind

"Here we go to keep the world happy, Montag!"

Beatty's pink, phosphorescent cheeks gli furiously

"Here we are!"

The Salahis raw eyes to the cold bright rail under his clenched fingers