He was not the only man aboard—there were sailors, of course, and a few other doughboys. But he was the only man who was over six feet, and whose impassive gaze and quiet nod tended to make the women collide with each other. Also: he had two puppies. Oh, and he was taking them to Hollywood, by the way. Never had an ocean voyage begun with such promise.

He said hello many times, dozens, as he boarded. Nanette and Boy were petted and praised, and Lee was asked by several women if he would be walking the dogs on deck anytime soon. And where he was bunking.

Leland was given a supply closet instead of a room. It lacked portholes, the nearest latrine was at the other end of the deck, and the sink’s water, when it ran, was a greenish trickle. He had a cot and a blanket, but sleeping was nearly impossible because of the infinite variety of noises that the engines—which seemed to be in the closet with him—made as the ship’s screws spun in the dark gray waters.

There was a slop bucket for the dogs, and no promises of meals for them, and the moment the ship first took a heavy roll at sea, both of the dogs lurched into sickness. He took them onto the decks, but the sea spray was cold and wet, and Nanette began coughing hard enough to frighten him, so he brought them back to their closet.

He left the room on the first night and immediately found several girls in the corridor who would be pretty enough to kiss, and several others whom it would be no crime to see naked. He wanted to begin talking so he could say, casually, I’m bringing the dogs to Hollywood. Nanette is the world’s best dog, and I’m going to make her famous. But there were diesel fumes belowdecks, which made everyone feel queasy, including Leland, and this limited his ability to find repartee. He lay in his cot, running his fingers over his finger puppets and thinking that if he was lucky enough to find a sweetheart or two on the voyage he would not say anything about her being a sucker. He was ready for something different to happen.

In the first two days of the crossing, he learned that the Hello Girls were in the flesh exactly what a reasonable man would believe: the full spectrum of millihelens. Some of them grandmothers, some plump, some too thin, most of them exhausted-looking, and a handful of them perhaps incredible. Leland caught brief glances of a few girls who certainly deserved a second look before they were parried away into private quarters. The most beautiful were the most chaperoned.