"About seventy thousand, sir."
"What's the name of it?"
The boy grinned. Here was one of those "fresh guys" who were always springing wheezes like this because they thought the "hops" expected it.
"Petrograd."
Mathison caught the point immediately. "Boy, on my word, I haven't the least idea what the name of this town is. I'm off the stalled flyer, and I forgot to ask the porter. I wanted a bed instead of a bunk. Now shoot."
The boy named the town.
"What have you got in the line of theaters?"
"This is Tuesday," answered the boy.
"I know that. Is there a comic opera or a good burlesque?"