At a lunch wagon down near the water front, Bud stopped and
bought two "hot dog" sandwiches and a mug of hot coffee boiled
with milk in it and sweetened with three cubes of sugar. "O-oh,
boy!" he ejaculated gleefully when he set his teeth into biscuit
and hot hamburger. Leaning back luxuriously in the big car, he
ate and drank until he could eat and drink no more. Then, with a
bag of bananas on the seat beside him, he drove on down to the
mole, searching through the drizzle for the big gum sign which
Foster had named. Just even with the coughing engine of a waiting
through train he saw it, and backed in against the curb, pointing
the car's radiator toward the mainland. He had still half an hour
to wait, and he buttoned on the curtains of the car, since a wind
from across the bay was sending the drizzle slantwise; moreover
it occurred to him that Foster would not object to the
concealment while they were passing through Oakland. Then he
listlessly ate a banana while he waited.

The hoarse siren of a ferryboat bellowed through the murk. Bud
started the engine, throttled it down to his liking, and left it
to warm up for the flight. He ate another banana, thinking lazily
that he wished he owned this car. For the first time in many a
day his mind was not filled and boiling over with his trouble.
Marie and all the bitterness she had come to mean to him receded
into the misty background of his mind and hovered there, an
indistinct memory of something painful in his life.

A street car slipped past, bobbing down the track like a duck
sailing over ripples. A local train clanged down to the depot and
stood jangling its bell while it disgorged passengers for the