other officer who was with him has been
walkin' around the Gaflooey truck all the time and examin' it like it's
the first auto he ever seen in his life.

"Pardon me," he says to Wilkinson, "did I understand you to say that
you made the trip from New York yesterday in the storm on this truck?"

"Yes, sir," says Wilkinson.

The officer pulls out a notebook.

"What time did you leave New York?" he asks, very businesslike.

Wilkinson tells him. Then the officer asks if we had any trouble, how
much gas and oil we used, what was our average speed and a million
other things. Alex's eyes begin to dance around, and he winks at me
like there's somethin' in the air. Fin'ly the officer walks away,
after thankin' the lovely Wilkinson for the information.

"Now!" hollers Alex, grabbin' Wilkinson's arm. "You win!"

"Win?" moans Wilkinson. "I'll be lucky if I don't go to jail!"

"You're crazy!" bellers Alex, gettin' more and more excited. "You had
nothin' to do with this thing--you didn't know the coats was no good.
Forget about that, the thing is you got a chance right now to put over
a bigger thing than them overcoats. You come here to make a sale,
didn't you? All right, go to it! That officer is connected with the
purchasin' department of the government, and he wasted a lot of time
talkin' to you about that truck. Do you realize what a wonderful thing
that was to get down here O.K. in that terrible storm yesterday?
No--_you_ don't, but _he_ did! Right now he's got that there truck on
his mind. Go after him before he gets inside the buildin' and make
your sale!"

"But," says Wilkinson, kinda dazed, "what have I got to sell? The
overcoats are--"

"Damn the overcoats!" hollers Alex. "Sell him the truck that brought
'em down--they ain't nothin' wrong with that! If it's good enough for
a trip like that, it's good enough for the army, ain't it? Hurry up
and make an appointment with him for to-day, and I'll get you the
figures on the Gaflooey truck for a hundred or a million--I know 'em by
heart!"

"By Heavens, I'll chance it!" says Wilkinson, and runs after the
officer.

Comin' up on the train that night I sit in the smoker and write Alex my
check for a thousand berries. They was no two ways about it as he
showed me, because he had bet he would make Wilkinson put over a sale
in Washington. He didn't say _what_ he had to sell. The lovely
Wilkinson, which has sent about five dollars' worth of night letters