And as for journeying on to that lake which the peanut butcher had talked so much about, Jack had never for one minute intended going there.
A tall man with shrewd blue eyes twinkling behind goldrimmed glasses came out and stood in the pleasant warmth of the sun.

He had a lot of mail under his arm and a San Francisco paper spread before him.

Jack slanted a glance or two toward the paper, and at the second glance he gulped.
"Los Angeles Auto Bandits Trailed" stared out at him accusingly like a pointed finger.

Underneath, in smaller type, that was black as the meaning that it bore for him, were the words: "Sensational Developments Expected." Jack did not dare look again, lest he betray to the shrewd eyes behind the glasses a guilty interest in the article.

He took his cigarette from his mouth and moistened his lips, and tried to hide the trembling of his fingers by flicking off the ash.