“Sure, ten thirty sharp,” repeated Crumb, rising. “Oh, say, Allen, will you do me a favor? I promised a fellow I’d bring him a bindle of M to-night, and if you’ll hand it to him it’ll save me the trip. It’s right on your way to the car line. You’ll find him in the alley back of the Hollywood Drug Store, just west of Cuyhenga on the south side of Hollywood Boulevard.”
“Sure, glad to accommodate,” said Allen; “but how’ll I know him?”
“He’ll be standin’ there, and you walk up and ask him the time. If he tells you, and then asks if you can change a five, you’ll know he’s the guy all right. Then you hand him these two ones and a fifty-cent piece, and he hands you a five-dollar bill. That’s all there is to it. Inside these two ones I’ll wrap a bindle of M. You can give me the five Monday morning when I see you.”
“Slip me the junk,” said Allen.
The girl had risen, and was putting on her coat and hat.
“Where are you going—home so early?” asked Crumb.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m tired, and I want to write a letter.”
“I thought you lived here,” said Allen.
“I’m here nearly all day, but I go home nights,” replied the girl.
Slick Allen looked puzzled as he left the bungalow.