t of the shadows, and Cliff climbed down.

"I want to use your 'phone a minute. Go over the car, will you, until
I come back. Where can I spot her--out of the way?"

The man waved a hand toward a space at the far end, and Cliff returned
to his seat and dexterously placed the car, nose to the wall.

"You may as well stay right here. I'll not be gone long. You might
curl down and take a nap."

It was not an order, but Johnny felt that he was expected to keep
himself out of sight, and the suggestion to nap appealed to him. He
found a robe and covered himself, and went to sleep with the readiness
of a cat curled behind a warm stove. He did not know how long it was
before Cliff woke him by pulling upon the car door. He did not
remember that the garage man had fussed much with the car, though he
might have done it so quietly that Johnny would not hear him. The man
was standing just outside the door, and presently he signalled to
Cliff, and Cliff backed out into the empty street. He nodded to the
man and drove on to the corner, turned and went a block, and turned
again. The streets seemed very quiet, so Johnny supposed that it was
late, though the clock set in the instrument board was not running.

They went on, out of the town and into a road that wound up long hills
and down to the foot of others which it straightway climbed. Cliff did
not drive so fast now, though their speed was steady. Twice he stopped
to walk over to some house near the road and have speech with the
owner. He was inquiring the way, he explained to Johnny, who did not
believe him; Cliff drove with too much certainty, seemed too familiar
with certain unexpected twists in the road, to be a stranger upon it,
Johnny thought. But he did not say anything--it was none of his
business. Cliff was running this part of the show, and Johnny was
merely a passenger. His job was flying, when the time came to fly.

After a while he slid farther down into the seat and slept.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"MY JOB'S FLYING"

The stopping of the motor wakened him finally, and he sat up,
stretching his arms and yawning prodigiously. His legs were cramped,
his neck was stiff, he was conscious of great emptiness. By the stars
he knew that it was well toward morning. Hills bulked in the distance,
with dark blobs here and there which daylight later identified as live
oaks. Cliff was climbing out, and at the sound of Johnny's yawn he
turned.

"We'll cam