He fussed with a fresh cigarette, paying no apparent attention to Johnny, which gave that young man an idea that he was wholly unobserved while he dizzily made a mental calculation.

Fourteen hundred a week--go-od golly! In a month--or would it last for a month?
"How long a job is this ?" he demanded so suddenly that the words were out before he knew he was going to ask the question.
"How long?
Well--that's hard to say.

Until you fail to put me across the line safely, I suppose.

There's always something doing or going to be done in Mexico, old man--and it's always worth reporting to the Syndicate.

How long will people go on reading their morning paper at breakfast ?" He smiled the tolerant, bored smile that Johnny associated with his first sight of Cliff.