"Gee, I'm hungry too. I forgot to eat any lunch."
In the German restaurant there was a thick smell of beer and fat wurst and sawdust. Whitey took off his cap exposing a closely cropped tow head and sat stiffly on the shiny reddish wooden bench. Wenny ordered beer and hamburger and potatoes of a fat-faced waiter who looked from one to the other out of suspicious pig eyes.
"Gee, you're treatin' me white. I guess you're millionaire on the loose."
"I wish I was," said Wenny laughing. "No, I just had a fight with my father."
"Like me when I left home."
"How long have you been bumming round like this?"
"'Bout a year an a half."
"Where do you come from?"
"Perkinville, a little jerkwater town back in South Dakota."
"Good beer, isn't it?"