He'll stall yuh off till you forget how to fly." He turned his pale stare to Johnny with a new interest.

"You aren't making a transcontinental, are you ?" "Well--n-no.

Not yet, anyway.

I--live here." You may not believe it, but Johnny was beginning to feel apologetic--and before a hobo, of all men.
"The deuce you do!" The tramp hitched himself up on another vertebra of his limp spine.

"Why, I thought you were probably just making a cross-country flight, and had a wreck.