ld account
for his caution much better than would the business deal of which Foster
had hinted.

Of course, Bud told himself while the waiter refilled his coffee cup, it
was none of his business what Foster had up his sleeve. He wanted to get
somewhere quickly and quietly, and Bud was getting him there. That was
all he need to consider. Warmed and once more filled with a sense of
well-being, Bud made himself a cigarette before the lunch was ready,
and with his arms full of food he went out and across the street. Just
before he reached the car one of the thermos bottles started to slide
down under his elbow. Bud attempted to grip it against his ribs, but the
thing had developed a slipperiness that threatened the whole load, so he
stopped to rearrange his packages, and got an irritated sentence or two
from his passengers.

"Giving yourself away like that! Why couldn't you fake up a mileage?
Everybody lies or guesses about the gas--"

"Aw, what's the difference? The simp ain't next to anything. He thinks I
own it."

"Well, don't make the mistake of thinking he's a sheep. Once he--"

Bud suddenly remembered that he wanted something more from the
restaurant, and returned forth-with, slipping thermos bottle and all. He
bought two packages of chewing gum to while away the time when he could
not handily smoke, and when he returned to the car he went muttering
disapproving remarks about the rain and the mud and the bottles. He
poked his head under the front curtain and into a glum silence. The two
men leaned back into the two corners of the wide seat, with their heads
drawn down into their coat collars and their hands thrust under the
robe. Foster reached forward and took a thermos bottle, his partner
seized another.

"Say, you might get us a bottle of good whisky, too," said Foster,
holding out a small gold piece between his gloved thumb and finger. "Be
quick about it though--we want to be traveling. Lord, it's cold!"

Bud went into a saloon a few doors up the street, and was back presently
with the bottle and the change. There being nothing more to detain them
there, he kicked some of the mud off his feet, scraped off the rest
on the edge of the running board and climbed in, fastening the curtain
against the storm. "Lovely weather," he grunted sarcastically. "Straight
on to Bakersfield, huh?"

There was a minute of silence save for the gurgling of liquid running
out of a bottle into an eager mouth. Bud laid an arm al