me have a hundred or so, Carl, till the end of the month?"
"Well, I'll tell you, Hubert, I'm a little pressed myself. How much could you get by with?"
"A hundred would fit me fine."
"A hundred? Gee, I don't know."
"You know I'm good for it, Carl, don't you?"
Carl regarded him speculatively. The fact was that he didn't know that Hubert was good for it, didn't even think he was. Still, he'd been a business man for years and had quit clean. Well, what the hell? A hundred dollars wasn't a million.
Hubert hurried back to Inwood with the hundred dollars Carl had drawn from the bank for him. He handed it to the garage man with a smile.
"If I had known that you'd have conniption fits over such a small amount I'd have paid you long ago," he said. "Take what I owe you out of this and next month's rent on the Packard. I'm taking the Nash away today to give to my nephew."
Lillian was impressed when five minutes later he honked the roadster's horn beneath her window. She had never expected to see either car again. She hurried downstairs to him, pulling her coat on as she ran.
"How did you talk him into giving up the car?"
"I paid him."
"Paid him? Where did you get the money?"
"Why, I was up talking to Carl Feldman about a job and he suddenly remembered that he owed me a hundred bucks. Can you imagine that for luck? It had gone right plumb out of my mind."
