in' at him. "You poor boob, can't you
see how busy we are here now? We just got a tip on a real order--fifty
cars, and we can't trace the thing!" He rubs his hands together.
"Fifty cars! That's how the Gaflooey sells--fifty at a time!" He
sneers at Alex. "Your approach is terrible!" he says. "You'll never
land a job in this town like that, my boy. Go somewhere first and
learn how to interest a busy man with the first thing you say and--"

"Listen!" butts in Alex. "Gimme that job, will you, or I'll have to go
somewhere else."

The manager laughs, as a couple of salesmen come along and join him.
They all sneer at Alex and the manager nudges his minions and winks.

"So you think you're a ten thousand dollar auto salesman, eh?" he says.
"Ah--who can you refer to?" He makes a bluff at takin' down notes.

"Mister Munson, of the Mastadon Department Store," says Alex.

"Ha, ha, ha!" roars the manager. "Department store, eh--that's rich!
You quit the shirtwaist department to sell autos, eh? Ha, ha, ha!
What does a department store manager know of your ability to sell
autos?" he snarls.

"Well,--I just sold him fifty of _yours_!" remarks Alex. "So I
thought--"

"What?" shrieks the manager, grabbin' his arm.

Alex hands over the order Munson give him.

"Now before I go to work here," he says, "it might be a good idea to
let me look over one of your cars, because, to tell you the truth, I
ain't never seen one of 'em in my life!"

Well, they had Munson on the phone in a minute and in another one the
manager hangs up the receiver and comes back.

"Do I get the job?" asks Alex.

"Do you get the job!" yells friend manager, slappin' him on the back.
"No, you don't get it--only if you leave here without signing your name
to a five-year contract and accepting a check for fifteen hundred
dollars' commission and as much more as you want to draw on your
expense account, I'll--I'll--murder you! But first, you lunch with me
at the Fitz-Barlton and we'll map out a campaign--"

"Gimme that eight hundred!" says Alex to me.

I passed it over still semi-conscious.

Alex stretches his arms, puts the money away and grins.

"Get me that Eve girl on the phone, will you?" he tells me. "I--I had
a little bet with her, too!" He lights the cigar Buck Rice had give
him in the mornin', blows out some smoke and looks over at Broadway,
jammed with the matinee crowd. "Some burg!" he says, shakin' his head
and grinnin' at me!