what the...

As I traveled south down the freeway, I glanced to my left as I sometimes do.  There lay on the side of the road a prosthetic leg.  This was not the prosthetic leg of an African American, or that of a Caucasian...no sir.  This was the prosthetic leg of a Native American.  Judging by the color of the missing "limb" I determined that it had to be that of a Native American.  When I was younger I read a few Hardy Boys mystery books, so I'm fairly certain that I am correct in this assessment.  Then again, it may not have been a prosthetic limb at all.  After all, I was doing 80.