"
"Not with those eyes," a sallow companion agreed. "I seem to know that
other bird. He's a crook, if I know faces."
"He's just the mechanic. He don't count. But that kid--say, I like
that kid!" And he added enthusiastically, "Great story, that stuff the
mechanic doped out for us. We'd never have pulled it out of the kid."
"I wish I could remember that bird. I ought to know him. Leaves a bad
taste in my memory, somehow. You're right--it's some story."
CHAPTER SEVEN
MERELY TWO POINTS OF VIEW
Mary V wadded a soft cushion under the nape of her neck, looked again
at Johnny sprawled in her dad's pet chair and smoking a cigarette after
a very ample meal that had been served him half-way between dinner and
supper, and stifled a sigh. Johnny was alive and well and full of
enthusiasm as ever. He had just finished telling her all the wonderful
things he could do and would do with his airplane, and the earnings he
had hopefully mentioned ran into thousands of dollars, and left a nice
marrying balance after her father's debt was paid. Yet Mary V felt a
heaviness in her heart, and though she listened to all the wonderful
things Johnny meant to do, she could not feel that they were really
possible.
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