Good golly!" he said in a hushed tone, and that was the
first normal, Johnny-Jewel phrase he had spoken for six days.

"Well, there's plenty to see yuh through, if you want to try the
Coast," Bland urged, watching Johnny's face avidly. "Way they done yuh
dirt here, bo, I couldn't git out quick enough, if it was me. I'll say
I couldn't. And out there's where the real money is. Here, I've taken
everybody up that's got the nerve and the ten dollars. In Los Angeles
you can be taking in money like that every day. F'r cat's sake, bo,
let's git outa this. They ain't handed you nothin' but the worst of
it."

He had changed his point of view considerably since he painted the
picture of easy wealth in Tucson, to be won on the strength of the
newspaper publicity Johnny had acquired. He had seen something in
Johnny's face that encouraged him to suggest Los Angeles once more as
the ultimate goal of all true aviators. Johnny had nothing to hold
him, now that Mary V had broken with him--as Bland understood the
separation. With Mary V's influence strong upon Johnny's decisions,
Bland had bided his time; but there was nothing now to hold him,
everything to urge him away from the place. And Bland pined for the
gay cafes on Spring Street. (They are not so gay nowadays, but that is
beside the point, for Bland remembered them as being gay, and for their
gayety he pined.)

Johnny resorted to his old subterfuge of rolling and smoking a
cigarette very deliberately while he made up his mind what to do. And
Bland watched his face as a hungry dog watches for flung scraps of food.

"Aw, come on, bo! F'r cat's sake let's get to a regular town where we
got a chance to make real money! Why--think of it! We can start now,
and with luck we can sleep in Los Angeles to-night. And it won't be
hot like it is here, and you can git a decent meal and see a decent
show while you put yourself outside it. And," he added artfully,
giving the propeller a pull, "the Thunder Bird is achin' to fly. Look
underneath, bo. I've got her name painted on the under side, too, so
she'll holler her name like a honkin' goose as she flies. And you
don't want her to go squawking Thunder Bird to these damn' hicks, I
guess, and keep 'em rememberin' that you spent six days--"

"That'll be about all," Johnny cut him short. "No, I don't want
anything more of this darn country. I'm willing to fly to Los Angeles
or Miles City, Montana--just so we get outa her