But what she wants?
Nobody can make it go.

No Mexicans can fly, you bet.

Me, I don't know damn t'ing about flyin' nothin' but monee.

Monee, I make it fly, yes." He chuckled at his little joke, but Johnny did not even hear it.
Johnny was seeing a real, military airplane in his possession, cached away in some niche in the lava wall to the west of Sinkhole--a wall that featured queer niches and caverns and clefts.

He was seeing--what wonderful things was Johnny not seeing?
"Like them buried treasure," Tomaso's brother went on purring comfortably to Johnny's doubts.