He was not sure about it himself. Still, the matter was
untried. Henderson might be right.
But it was all a fluke. It seemed to him he was getting an entirely
disproportionate reward for mauling an insolent chauffeur. That moved
him to wonder what became of Pebbles. He felt sorry for Pebbles. The man
had probably lost his job for good measure. Poor devil!
As he walked his thought short-circuited to Sophie Carr. Whereat he
turned into a drugstore containing a telephone booth and rang her up.
Sophie herself answered.
"I guess my saying good-by last night was a little premature," he told
her. "I'm not going north after all. In fact, if things go on all right
I may be in San Francisco indefinitely. I've got a job."
"What sort of a job?" Sophie inquired.
He hadn't told her about the ten o'clock appointment with Henderson. Nor
did he go into that now.
"I've been taken on in an automobile plant on Van Ness," he said. "A
streak of real luck. I'm to have a chance to learn the business. So I
won't see you in Vancouver. Remember me to Tommy. I suppose you'll be
busy getting ready to go, so I'll wish you a pleasant voyage."
"Thanks," she answered. "Wouldn't it be more appropriate if you wished
that on us in person before we sail?"
"I don't know," he mumbled.
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