The Mexican boy whom Johnny had hired to watch the plane in his absence lay asleep under one wing.

A faint odor of varnish testified to the heat of the day that was waning toward a sultry night.
Without disturbing the boy Johnny rolled a smoke and stood, as he had stood many and many a time, staring at his prize and wondering what to do with it.

He had to have money.

That was flat, final, admitting no argument.

At a reasonable estimate, three thousand dollars were tied up in that machine.