That night I found Carlo and to my amazement he told me he'd been in Central City with Dean. "What did you do?"
"Oh, we ran around the bars and then Dean stole a car and we drove back down the mountain curves ninety miles an hour." "I didn't see you."
"We didn't know you were there."
"Well, man, I'm going to San Francisco." "Dean has Rita lined up for you tonight."
"Well, then, I'll put it off." I had no money. I sent my aunt an
airmail letter asking her for fifty dollars and said it would be the last money I'd ask; after that she would be getting money back from me, as soon as I got that ship.
Then I went to meet Rita Bettencourt and took her back to the apartment. I got her in my bedroom after a long talk in the dark of the front room. She was a nice little girl, simple and true, and tremendous- ly frightened of sex. I told her it was beautiful. I wanted to prove this to her. She let me prove it, but I was too impatient and proved nothing. She sighed in the dark. "What do you want out of life?" I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls.
"I don't know," she said. "Just wait on tables and try to get along." She yawned. I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn. I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do  together; saying that, and planning to leave Denver in two days. She turned  away wearily. We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad. We made vague plans to meet in Frisco.
My moments in Denver were coming to an end, I could feel it when I walked her home, on the way back I stretched out on the grass of an old church with a bunch of hobos, and their talk made me want to get back on that road. Every now and then one would get up and hit a passer-by for a dime. They talked of harvests moving north. It was warm and soft. I  wanted  to go and get Rita again and tell her a lot more things, and really make love to her this time, and calm her fears about men. Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they  submit to sex immediately without proper  preliminary  talk.  Not  courting  talk--real  straight  talk  about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious. I heard the Denver and Rio Grande locomotive howling off to the mountains. I wanted to pursue my star further.
Major and I sat sadly talking in the midnight hours. "Have you ever   read  iGreen  Hills  of  Africai?  It's  Hemingway's  best."  We wished each other luck. We would meet in Frisco. I saw Rawlins under a dark tree in the  street. "Good-by, Ray. When do we meet again?" I went to look for Carlo and Dean--nowher............