ob from his mind and waited with rising
indignation for Bland. What had become of the darned little runt?
Here it was nine o'clock, and no sign of him. The lobby was beginning
to wear an atmosphere of sedate bustling to and fro. Johnny watched
travelers arrive with their luggage, watched other travelers depart.
Business men strayed in, seeking acquaintances. The droning chant of
pages in tight jackets and little caps perched jauntily askew
interested him. Would Bland, when he came, have sense enough to send
one around calling out "Mr. Jew-wel--Mr. John-ny Jew-wel"? Johnny knew
exactly how it would sound. Cliff Lowell might, but he did not want to
see Cliff. The more he thought about him the more he distrusted that
proposition. A thousand dollars a week did not sound convincing in the
broad light of day. It was altogether too good to be true. Why, good
golly! Nobody but a millionaire could afford to pay that much just for
riding around; and if they could, they'd buy themselves an airplane.
They wouldn't rent one, that was certain.

At ten o'clock Johnny mentally blew up. He had not come to Los Angeles
to sit around in any doggone hotel like an old woman waiting for a
train, and if Bland or anybody else thought he'd hang around there all
day-- He went to the desk, left word that he had gone out to
Inglewood, watched the clerk scribble the information on a slip of
paper and put it in his key box, and went out wondering how he was
going to find his way to the Thunder Bird. But his natural initiative
came to his aid. He saw an automobile with a FOR HIRE sign on it, held
brief conversation with the driver, and was presently leaning back on
the cushions watching luckless pedestrians dodge out of the way. The
sight, I may add, restored his good humor to the point of forgetting
his dignity and crawling over into the front seat where he proceeded to
scrape acquaintance with the driver. Los Angeles was a great place,
all right--when you can see it from the front seat of an automobile.
Johnny began to talk automobiles to the man and managed to extract a
good deal of information, that may or may not have been authentic,
concerning the various "makes" and their prices and speed. Not that he
intended to buy one; but still, with good luck, there was no reason why
he should not, when he had that note paid. A car certainly did give
class to a man--and according to this fellow it would be a real economy
to own one. Th