 Why did the bank robbers end up crashing?
There was Mr. Featherhall at his desk, refusing to okay a personal check from a perfect stranger. There was Charlie Casale, getting ten dollars dimes, six dollars nickels and four dollars pennies for his father in the grocery store down the street. There was Mrs. Dolly Daniels, withdrawing money from her savings account again. And there were three bank robbers. The three bank robbers looked like triplets. From the ground up, they all wore scuffy black shoes, baggy-kneed and unpressed khaki trousers, brown cracked-leather jackets over flannel shirts, white handkerchiefs over the lower half of their faces and gray-and-white check caps pulled low over their eyes. The third one, who carried a black satchel like a doctor's bag, walked quickly around behind the teller's counter and started filling it with money. The man who had first spoken herded the tellers, Mr. Featherhall and the customers all over against the back wall, while the second man stayed next to Mr. Anderson and the door. Robbery!" She fell unconscious to the floor, and all three of them ran out of the bank to the car out front, in which sat a very nervous-looking fourth man, gunning the engine. Two police cars came driving down the block and a half from the precinct house to the bank, and the car with the four robbers in it lurched away from the curb and drove straight down the street toward the police station. The police cars and the getaway car passed one another, with everybody shooting like the ships in pirate movies. There was so much confusion that it looked as though the bank robbers were going to get away after all. The police cars were aiming the wrong way and, as they'd come down with sirens wailing, there was a clear path behind them. Then, after the getaway car had gone more than two blocks, it suddenly started jouncing around. And all the police went running down there to clap handcuffs on the robbers when they crawled dazedly out of their car. "Well," said Pauling, "it was a stolen car. "What I can't figure out," said Stevenson, "is exactly what made those tires do that. On the way around, Stevenson said, "I believe you reported the car stolen almost immediately after it happened." "If I'm making just a quick stop—I never spend more than five minutes with any one customer—I always leave the keys in the car. "It was four professional criminals, I thought you knew that.
 The Scorpion somehow melted their tires.
 The cops used incendiary bullets to melt the tires.  The Scorpion somehow melted their tires.  They didn't realize the car they stole was damaged.  It was so hot outside that their tires melted and blew out.