Johnny was sick. Bland had undoubtedly squandered the
money in one long debauch, and there was no doubt in Johnny's mind of
Bland's reason for missing his train. He was a bum by nature and he
would double-cross his own mother, Johnny firmly believed. Yet, there
was Johnny's boyish sympathy that never failed sundry stray dogs and
cats that came in his way. It impelled him now to befriend Bland
Halliday.

"Well, since the cat's come back, I suppose it must have its saucer of
milk," he grinned, by way of hiding the fact that the lip-quiver had
touched him. "I haven't taken any nourishment myself for quite some
time. Come on and eat."

He started back toward town, and Bland Halliday followed him like a
lonesome pup.

On the way, Johnny took stock of Bland in little quick glances from the
corner of his eyes. Bland had been shabby when Johnny discovered him
one day on the depot platform of a tiny town farther down the line. He
had been shabbier after three weeks in Johnny's camp, working on the
airplane in hope of a free trip to the Coast. But his shabbiness now
surpassed anything Johnny had known, because Bland had evidently made
pitiful attempts to hide it. That, Johnny guessed, was because of the
hussy Bland had mentioned.

Bland's shoes were worn through on the sides, and he had blackened his
ragged socks to hide the holes. Somewhere he had got a blue serge
coat, from which the lining sagged in frayed wrinkles. His pockets
were torn down at the corners; buttons were gone, grease spots and beer
stains patterned the cloth. Under the coat he wore a pink-and-white
silk shirt, much soiled and with the neck frankly open, imitating sport
style because of missing buttons. He looked what he was by nature;
what he was by training,--a really skilful birdman,--did not show at
all.

He begged a smoke from Johnny and slouched along, with an aimless
garrulity talking of his hard luck, now curiously shot with hope.
Which irritated Johnny vaguely, since instinct told him whence that
hope had sprung. Still, sympathy made him kind to Bland just because
Bland was so worthless and so miserable.

At a dingy, fly-infested place called "Red's Quick Lunch" whither
Johnny, mindful of his low finances, piloted him, Bland ordered largely
and complained because his "T bone" was too rare, and afterwards
because it was tough. Johnny dined on "coffee and sinkers" so that he
could afford Bland's steak and "French fried" and hot bi