The Doll With The Dreamy Disposition

Being a private investigator means two things. You can be sure you'll run into trouble, and you can never be sure you get out of it. Well, there's not much you can do about it, I guess.

Except, like Julie always says... Walk softly, Peter Troy. And now, Peter Troy investigates... the doll with the dreamy disposition. This Colonel Julie is what script writers call a force to be reckoned with, especially in a tight corner.

Well, I guess you know all about that if you've been following the misadventures of Peter Troy. Yes, indeed. Quite a girl, is Julie. Nice eyes, nice figure. Nice disposition, too. Most of the time. Talking of dispositions brings me to another girl.

This one's called Anita Brophy. Dreamy is the operative word. That same dreamy look a tiger gets just after cheating a couple of stray white hunters. Yeah, dreaming. Everything about Anita was dreaming. Anita, you all right?

I think so, Boba. You saw what happened? Mm-hmm. Well, I couldn't avoid that car. He'd come right across me. Mm-hmm. The driver must have been a maniac. I came out of that side street like a rocket.

Oh, this is terrible. You sure beat the twist of the cakes, Boba. You stay here. I see what happened to the driver of that jalave. Someone sent for the police. Oh, well, that's been just waiting to call them.

Ah, good. I'm gonna sew the driver of that car. He came out of that side street like a maniac. I'll get him jailed for... What's the matter? What are you all staring at? The drivers?

He's dead. Dead? Steering wheel. Dead? What's my fault you saw what happened? Negative driving on his part. Anyone know him? Yes, I recognize the boy. Johnny McCalas' son. I'm done. And Kayla's. You stay where you are, Nita.