Again she nodded faintly. In a panic I reckoned the contents of my
wallet. About forty dollars, I thought--no, thirty. Would that take us
to Yuma? Barely, perhaps, and I should have to wire the _Intelligencer_
for money to return. Besides, in the present condition of the roads the
journey would be a matter of days and I knew she would accept nothing
but the very best. How could I do it? Should I return to the
_Intelligencer_ office and try to get an advance on next week's salary?
I had heard from more than one disgruntled reporter that it was an
impossibility. Good heavens, I thought, I shall lose her.

Whatever happened I must take her as far as I could; I must not let her
go before I was absolutely forced to. This resolution made, my first
thought was to cut the time, for poking along in this packed mass I was
burning gasoline without getting anywhere. Taking advantage of my
knowledge of the sideroads, I turned off at the first chance and was
able to resume a normal speed as I avoided towns and main highways.

Still she continued silent, until at length, passing orangegroves heavy
with coppery fruit, I ventured to speak myself. "My name is Albert
Weener. Bert."

The right rear tire kicked up some dust as I nervously edged off the
road. Somewhere overhead a plane ripped through the hot silk of the sky.

"Uh ... what ... uh ... won't you tell me yours?"

Still facing ahead, she replied, "It isnt necessary."

After a few more miles I ventured again. "You live--were living in Los
Angeles?"

She shook her head impatiently.

Well, I thought, really...! Then: poor thing, she's probably terribly
upset. Home and family lost perhaps. Money gone. Destitute. Going East,
swallowing pride, make a new start with the help of unsympathetic
relatives. She has only me to depend on--I must not fail her. Break the
ice, whatever attitude her natural pride dictates, offer your services.

"I'm on the _Daily Intelligencer_," I said. "I'm the man who first
walked on top of the grass."

Ten miles later I inquired, "Wouldnt you be more comfortable with that
heavy fur coat off? I can put it in the back with your luggage and it
won't be crushed."

She shook her head more impatiently.

Suddenly I remembered the car radio installed a few days before. A
little cheerful music calms the soul. I turned it on and got a band
playing a brandnew hit, "Green as Grass."

"Oh, no. No noise."

Of course. How thoughtless of me. The very word "g