Walk, don't run!

Monday morning Husband ran back into the house to get something he had forgotten, then ran back to the car and drove off. Meanwhile, our next-door neighbor came face to face with a thief in her apartment. She screamed and the robber fled. She called the police, who arrived in no time. A jogger who happened by at that precise moment saw Husband run to the car. Doing his civic duty, he gave the police the licence number. Husband was stopped at a red light when four police cars, sirens blaring, pinned him in. Weapons drawn, they questioned him: "what's in your pockets?" - oodles of cash (he was on his way to the bank to make a sizable deposit); "is this your car?" - no (our car gave up the ghost last week); "what's in the car?" - a set of licence plates (removed from said deceased car). They had him get into their car and drove him back to the scene of the crime. Our neighbor, who was waiting to identify the suspect, was horrified to see Husband emerge from the police car. She said, "that's my favorite neighbor, let him go at once!" All's well that ends well. Now Husband has a new story to add to his repertoire.

Gotta run...