embarrassing questions, so long as the cash wasn't anything larger than
a five-dollar bill.

He entered the next one he came to. It was dirty; the windows held
several years' accumulation of cooking grease, but the aroma was terrific
to a young animal who'd been without food since yesterday afternoon.

The counterman did not like kids, but he put away his dislike at the
sight of Jimmy's money. He grunted when Jimmy requested a dog, tossed one
on the grill and went back to reading his newspaper until some inner
sense told him it was cooked. Jimmy finished it still hungry and asked
for another. He finished a third and washed down the whole mass with a
tall glass of highly watered orange juice. The counterman took his money
and was very careful about making the right change; if this dirty kid had
swiped the five-spot, it could be the counterman's problem of explaining
to someone why he had overcharged. Jimmy's intelligence told him that
countermen in a joint like this didn't expect tips, so he saved himself
that hurdle. He left the place with a stomach full of food that only the
indestructible stomach of a five-year-old could handle and now, fed and
reasonably content, Jimmy began to seek his next point of contact.

He had never been in a big city before. The sheer number of human beings
that crowded the streets surpassed his expectations. The traffic was not
personally terrifying, but it was so thick that Jimmy Holden wondered how
people drove without colliding. He knew about traffic lights and walked
with the green, staying out of trouble. He saw groups of small children
playing in the streets and in the empty lots. Those not much older than
himself were attending school.

He paused to watch a group of children his own age trying to play