In the silence between automobiles it deafened him so that Bland's drawling voice came to him dully, the words muffled.
"We'll have to get us a car," Bland repeated three times before Johnny understood.
"Oh.

I thought you meant we're getting close to a car," Johnny grumbled.

"How much farther we got to walk, for gosh sake ?" "About a mile now, bo.

It's only--" "A mile! Good golly! I thought we was flying to Los Angeles! You never said we had to walk half the way from Tucson.

What in thunder made you fly forty miles beyond the darned place! Just so you'd have a chance to wreck the plane?
A hell of a pilot you are!" Bland protested, trailing a step behind Johnny, whose stride had lengthened with the bad news.