amusement I got. I ain't so much as a cook, but you oughta see me play
ball, heh, Mac?"

The old glitter comes into Alex's eyes.

"I seen you play ball, Mister Sells," he says, "and you are a knockout!
But what you just said about food interests me more. I'm kinda odd
regardin' vittles myself and what I seen in the paper to-day has got me
worried sick."

"What was that?" says Hector.

"Well," says Alex, "there's gonna be a fearful shortage of all kinds of
meats and vegetables, because all the available food in the U. S. is
about to be seized for the army. This time next year we'll all prob'ly
be livin' on bread and water and lucky to get it!"

Hector gets as white as precipitated chalk.

"You don't mean it!" he gasps, gettin' half outa his chair.

"It's a fact," says Alex. "I was only readin' it this mornin'."

I thought Hector was gonna fall dead at our feet.

"But--but what am _I_ gonna do?" he says, kinda dazed.

"What are _you_ gonna do?" I sneers. "What are we _all_ gonna do?"

"You don't get me!" he says. "It's all well enough for you guys which
can eat common ordinary food like ham and eggs and steaks and chops,
but I can't _go_ that stuff! All the time I ain't out at the ball park
I'm experimentin' with different kinds of stuff to eat, and if they go
to work and shut off all them rare vegetables and so forth on me--well,
I don't eat, that's all!"

He gets up and reaches for his hat.

"Well," says Alex, "I can see that you and me is pretty much alike. I
can't eat porterhouse steaks and French lamb chops as a steady diet,
either! My stomach craves them rare dishes the same as yours does, and
it sure looks like you and me is gonna starve to death when this food
conservation thing goes through!"

Hector slaps his hands together and squares his jaw.

"_I_ ain't gonna starve!" he says. "They has got to be 1,500 calories
and a amount of proteins in proportion go into my system every day.
Not only that, its gotta be in a tasty form! I'm gonna go home and
figure this thing out so's I'll be took care of when the government
grabs off all the food supplies. They must be somethin' a man can do!
Good night, folks--and thanks for the use of the kitchen."

With that he blows.

"I think he's a nut!" remarks the wife, when the hall door bangs.

"Leave him be!" says Alex, rubbin' his hands together, a habit that
gets my goat. "I got him started now and--"

"Say!" I says. "I didn't see nothin'