he house. The newly-weds goes inside, while me
and Alex stays out on the porch, and in about half an hour they come
out again, bringin' old Runyon Q. Sampson with 'em. The old gent walks
over to Alex and holds out his hand.

"My boy," he says, "I want to thank you for what you've done to this
cub of mine. I don't know what you told him, but he's a different
person from the time I saw him last. He sounds like a real man, now!
I'm going to do something for you in return. I won't buy one of these
infernal cars of yours, wouldn't have it for a gift! But, if you'll
tell me what your commission on the sale would have amounted to, I'll
write you a check for that figure."

Margot looks at Alex, and then she looks at the car.

"Why, I think its a perfect dear!" she says, "and those colors real
harmony itself!"

Alex bounces forward, his eyes glitterin' again.

"We were thinkin' of callin' this model the Margot Meringue," he says,
"and--"

"Come, come!" interrupts old Runyon Q., "let's straighten this matter
up." He takes out his check book and fountain pen. "I want to take
you children down to Tiffany's and have Margot pick out a suitable
wedding gift. We have--"

"May I have anything I want?" asks Margot, kinda innocent.

"Of course you can!" beams the old boy, pinchin' her cheek.

"Then buy me a Gaflooey chummy roadster!" she says. "I think this one
is a perfect love of a car!"

Oh, boy!

Alex tries to look unconcerned, but he couldn't help droppin' his hat.
The old man coughs and gets red in the face, but he was game.

"All right!" he snorts at Alex. "You win. You can say you're the only
man that ever got the best of Runyon Q. Sampson! What's the amount?"

I went into the office of the Gaflooey Company with Alex when he went
back and the president is waitin' for him with blood in his eye.

"You needn't begin your excuses!" he says to Alex. "The mechanic has
told me how you made a mess of everything and Sampson refused to buy
the car. I didn't think they made any ten-thousand-a-year-men up in
Vermont when I hired you, but I took a chance. New York's too big for
you fellows; I guess you were only a flash in the pan! Just think what
it would have meant had you sold the car to old Sampson! Why, the
advertising alone would--"

"I guess you're right about me bein' a flash in the pan," butts in
Alex, "but I found another pan! I don't know whether this is any good
for advertisin' or not, but I so