A thousand dollars a week did not sound convincing in the broad light of day.

It was altogether too good to be true.

Why, good golly! Nobody but a millionaire could afford to pay that much just for riding around; and if they could, they'd buy themselves an airplane.
They wouldn't rent one, that was certain.
At ten o'clock Johnny mentally blew up.

He had not come to Los Angeles to sit around in any doggone hotel like an old woman waiting for a train, and if Bland or anybody else thought he'd hang around there all day-- He went to the desk, left word that he had gone out to Inglewood, watched the clerk scribble the information on a slip of paper and put it in his key box, and went out wondering how he was going to find his way to the Thunder Bird.

But his natural initiative came to his aid.