nails him. 

 "One moment, please!" she says, very cold—givin' Alex a look that took in everything from his hick clothes to his rube haircut.  "This happens to be a private office. Whom did you desire to see?" 

 "If I thought they was anybody prettier than you here, I'd ask to have them brought out," says Alex, in that simple rube way of his which give no offense, "but of course I know that's impossible. Still, as long as I'm here, I'd like to see Mister Munson." 

 The dame melts and releases a smile. 

 "What did you wish to see him about?" she asks. 

 "About ten minutes," pipes Alex.  "D'ye know there's somethin' about them navy blue eyes of yours that makes me think of my mother—isn't that funny?" 

 The dame surrenders and shows Alex all her nice front teeth. 

 "I'll see if Mister Munson is in," she says, handin' him a card, "but you'll have to fill this out." 

 Alex looks at the card which had this on it, 

Mr ................................... Desires to see ....................... Regarding ............................ 

 

 He laughs suddenly, takes out his fountain pen and fills the thing out. Lookin' over his shoulder I seen him write this, 

Mr......... Alex Hanley Desires to see ...... Mr. Munson. Regarding .... The price of petrified noodles in Siberia. 

 

 "There," he says, handin' it to the girl without a smile, "give that to Mister Munson." 

 She takes it in without lookin' at it. 

 "Well, you crabbed any chance you might of had, right off the bat!" I says to Alex.  "He'll get so sore when he reads that, he won't even let you in." 

 "Let him get sore!" chirps Alex.  "He'll not only get sore, he'll get curious and then again I'm figurin' on him bein' human, besides bein' general manager and havin' a sense of humor! He's probably been pestered with auto salesmen all day—if I wrote my real business on 

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