******* The Car Talk Puzzler Psychic Friends Network*******

A note from Car Talk Plaza: While the Puzzler enjoys a well-earned (okay, 
that's debatable) vacation, we'll be featuring a few of our especially 
scintillating, challenging and brain-achingly confounding classic puzzlers. We 
hope you enjoy them!

>From the Desk of

Maury Maille
Puzzler Tower
Car Talk Plaza
Hahvahd Squayah
Our Fair City

This Week's Classic Puzzler: A Fraud in an Ascot

RAY: A well-dressed gentleman enters a bank, approaches a teller and begins to 
tell his tale of woe. He says, "Pardon me, Madam, I hope you can help me. You 
see, I'm an English professor at Northwestern University and I am a visitor to 
your fair city, and I find myself in need of someone's help. I'm here visiting 
with my wife and my two daughters and I have no money with me, because my wife 
and my oldest daughter have gone out shopping this morning and taken my wallet, 
which contained my cash and credit cards --"

TOM: And ID.

RAY: "And identification, of course. They left me alone with the other daughter 
who has taken ill and I must buy her some medication, but I have no money. If 
you would be kind enough to cash a check for me for $50, that would be a great 
help to me and my daughter."

TOM: Yes.

RAY: The teller looks up and down. He's well dressed, distinguished looking, 
obviously quite articulate.

TOM: Little bit of a British accent.

RAY: Definitely. An English professor from Northwestern University. Pedantic, 
pretentious.

TOM: Snob!

RAY: Everything that you would expect a college professor to be, and he's 
wearing an ascot, of course. The teller looks at him and says, "I won't be able 
to help you, sir, because you are a fraud and a liar."

TOM: Ooh!

RAY: And he says, "Pardon me?" But she was absolutely correct. What was it that 
tipped the teller off?

Think you know? Drop Ray a note via

http://cartalk.cars.com/Mail/puzzler-answer.html

If you're right and we select your answer, we'll ship you a $26 Shameless 
Commerce gift certificate.

Want to listen to Ray obfuscate the puzzler in person? Listen anytime, at

http://www.cartalk.com/content/puzzler/

************
Remember last week's puzzler? Bob and the Miracle Car

RAY: This puzzler is a little story that's rife with hints, but not 
obfuscation. That's a big hint. There's nothing here to trip you up. Everything 
is designed to help you.

It's entitled, "Bob and the Miracle Car: April 1974."

Bob steered the old sedan down the open interstate, one finger on the wheel, 
his left arm resting on the windowsill. The spring air was warm and the breeze 
carried the scent of fresh cut flowers and grass. The glass and chrome 
reflected the brilliance of the late afternoon sun, which cast a golden glow 
through the cabin. Soft music wafted from the radio, the motor thrummed, the 
tires clopped a syncopated rhythm on the highway's expansion joints, and the 
speedometer needle hovered at 80. All was right with the world. Or so Bob 
thought.

He passed a sign proclaiming, "No gas, no food, no water, no hope, next 114 
miles." It barely registered. Bob had made this trip dozens of times in this 
very car. He'd inherited this 14-year-old sedan from his grandmother. It was a 
tail-finned relic, anachronistic as she had been, but it cost him nothing, was 
in good shape, and went pretty far between fill-ups.

An hour went by, and the day slipped toward evening. The inky shadows were 
creeping in. Suddenly, there was a loud rapping sound from the motor! Bob 
strained to hear, but the sound was gone. He glanced at the instruments. A red, 
telltale light was glowing. It read, "ALT," a-l-t. Bob pulled over to the 
shoulder, switched off the motor, got out, and opened the hood. He pulled a 
shredded belt from among the pulleys, and leaned over to see where it had come 
from. He was no mechanic and had never even changed his own oil. Still, he knew 
a little bit about how cars work, and he knew that a broken belt was a big 
problem, especially out here in the middle of nowhere.

The only pulley that seemed to be missing a belt was the alternator. He reached 
down, and he spun. It was free, but hot to the touch. He withdrew his singed 
fingers and blew on them. He looked at the rest of the belts. They were in bad 
shape, all probably original. Grammy had never replaced anything. The broken 
one had died of old age.

Okay, no alternator. If the battery wasn't too far discharged, he could maybe 
get the car started again. If he drove with all the electrical accessories 
switched off, he might get another half-hour down the road. It was getting dark 
though, and he would have to use his lights. That would kill the battery in no 
time. Help was almost an hour away in any direction. He wasn't going to make 
it. Bob put his hands on his hips and stared down that long, deserted stretch 
of highway. The buzzards were circling. He had no choice but to try.

He got back in and turned the key. The old motor rattled reassuringly to life. 
He ran the column-shifted manual up through the gears, and settled down to a 
steady 50 miles per hour. When it got too dark to see, he reluctantly put on 
the headlights. They began to dim almost immediately. He drove along, 
nervously, eyes shifting from the road to the instruments, ears listening for 
the motor to sputter. The red "ALT" light dimmed, and it, too, finally went out.

He made it to an off ramp, and downshifted as he took it, amazed that the motor 
still sounded so healthy. When Bob finally made it to a service station, the 
car's lights were out, the radio was dead, the electric windows wouldn't budge, 
but the motor still ran fine, clattering a little at idle, as it always had. 
The station's mechanic had a belt that would fit. While the guy worked on the 
car, Bob told him about his anxious ride. "No way did you drive 50 miles at 
night with a dead alternator," replied the mechanic. Then he leaned close to 
the motor, and sniffed. He said, "Ah, I stand corrected. Maybe you did. Lucky 
for you that you were driving one of these."

The question is what was Bob driving that night?

Here's what:

http://www.cartalk.com/content/puzzler/

So, did you figure it out?

Yours in weekly puzzler torment,

Maury Maille
Puzzler Dissemination Specialist
Car Talk Plaza

***************
Write Tom and Ray--Please!

Been meaning to write us a witty, brilliant, evocative, insightful letter? 
Excellent! We're not getting any of those things from the chumps hanging around 
Car Talk Plaza. For that matter, we'd settle for anything better than the usual 
schlock Tommy reads on the air.

So, what are you waiting for? Write Tom and Ray right now at

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*******************
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***********************************
Got more time to kill? This past weekend's new, lousy Car Talk show is now on 
the web site, at

http://www.cartalk.com/radio/show/
********************
Help Ray lose the night sweats he's been getting, trying to come up with a 
decent puzzler each week. E-mail him your suggestion any time, via

http://www.cartalk.com/email/email.html
********************
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