It was a neat trailer. There was a kitchenette in front, a bedroom in the rear that had twin beds. It was a big trailer, but everything was remarkably compact.
“I take it you girls live here all the time.”
“Sure. Why not? Why should we be moving things back and forth into an apartment when we already have an apartment on wheels.”
“You rent space in a trailer lot?”
“That’s right. Only it isn’t a trailer lot, it’s in behind a private residence. We drive in there, park under a tree, hook up the electricity, sleep until noon, then have breakfast. We eat again about seven-thirty, then start out to work, and usually wind the business up about three o’clock in the morning.”
“Looks like a nice business,” I said.
“The other person’s racket always does,” she commented dryly. “Seen the evening paper?”
“No.”
“You may as well take a look at it. We may have to wait for Bessie. She’s pretty good at hustling business.”
“Let’s have a look at the pictures.”