The big car weathered it without breaking a spring, and before the tiredest laborer of San Diego had yawned and declared it was bedtime, they chuckled sedately into San Diego and stopped on a side street where a dingy garage stood open to the greasy sidewalk.
Cliff turned in there and whistled.

A lean figure in grease-blackened coveralls came out 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.