A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION
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far too moved to talk. He even wondered if it would be all right to keep the bone, as a sort of sacred relic.
"Now, Sunshine, d' you want a job?"
Lonely did.
NOW, PUT THIS INTO YOUR FACE!
"D' you think you can hustle in to the Mayor's house with this letter? Or d' you know where he hangs out?"
"Yep!" answered Lonely promptly, without a quaver. He knew that he could soon find out—which amounted to about the same thing.
"He 'll give you a note to fetch back.
