onto the main track an' went a-roarin' off ahead of the Limited that was comin' fifty miles an hour, not a quarter of a mile away. Well, they stopped the Limited, cut her engine off, an' Rooney an' his constables took out after Notorious. That freight engine wasn't no slow-crawlin' bug when she was wide open. All they could see ahead was a black smudge." McKeever paused, grinning while several of the constables and non-coms who knew of the Sergeant's first-hand acquaintance with the outlaw, crowded about and were listening to the narrative. And Rickey, who had also chased Notorious on more than one occasion, cut in with an observation:
"Yes, and he whistles Yankee Doodle, blast him!"
McKeever laughed aloud. "I was comin' to that," he said. "Notorious is a Yankee, an' Rooney swears when that engine had got plumb out of sight down the track, an' them a-followin' so fast the telegraph poles looked like the teeth of a fine-toothed comb, Notorious was playin' Yankee Doodle on the whistle. That might be true, and again it mightn't—it ain't in the report. But, believe me, if a man can play Yankee Doodle on
