bay. And I'm looking for one of them where I can get a decent
day's work to do and a decent day's wages for doing it."

He spoke with an almost overdone earnestness. The girl was
watching him, attentively, a furrow between her straight
brows. Somehow, her level look made him uncomfortable. He
continued, with a shade less assurance:

"I was brought up on a farm, though I haven't been on one
since I was eighteen. I might have been better off if I'd
stayed there. Anyhow, when a man's prospects of starving are
growing brighter every day, a farm-job is about the pleasantest
sort of work he can find."

"Starving!" she repeated, in something like contempt. "If you
had been in this region a little longer--say, long enough to
pronounce the name, 'Miami' as it's pronounced down here,
instead of calling it 'Me-ah-mee,' as you did--if you'd been
here longer, you'd know that nobody need starve in Florida.
Nobody who is willing to work. There's the fishing, and the
construction gangs, and the groves, and the farms, and a
million other ways of making a living. The weather lets you
sleep outdoors, if you have to. The..."

"I've done it," he chimed in. "Slept outdoors, I mean. Last
night, for instance. I slept very snugly indeed, under a
Traveler Tree in the gardens of the Royal Palm Hotel. There
was a dance at the hotel. I went to sleep, under the stars,
to the lullaby of a corking good orchestra. The only drawback
was that a spooning couple who were engineering a 'petting