Brothers, Omaha. Strictly business. Known among the trade as the human cactus. Canceled a ten-thousand-dollar order once because the grateful salesman called her 'girlie.'  Stick to skirts." 

 

 Buck slapped the book smartly against the palm of his hand. 

 "Do you mean to tell me that you made this book out for me? Do you mean to say that I have to cram on this like a kid studying for exams? That I'll have to cater to the personality of the person I'm selling to? Why—it's—it's——" 

 Emma McChesney nodded calmly. 

 "I don't know how this trip of yours is going to affect the firm's business, T. A. But it's going to be a liberal education for you. You'll find that you'll need that little book a good many times before you're through. And while you're following its advice, do this: forget that your name is Buck, except for business purposes; forget that your family has always lived in a brownstone mausoleum in Seventy-second street; forget that you like your chops done just so, and your wine at such-and-such a temperature; get close to your trade. They're an awfully human lot, those Middle Western buyers. Don't chuck them under the chin, but smile on 'em. And you've got a lovely smile, T. A." 

 Buck looked up from the little leather book. And, as he gazed at Emma McChesney, the smile appeared and justified its praise. 

 "I'll have this to comfort me, anyway, Emma. I'll know that while I'm smirking on the sprightly Miss Sweeney, your face will be undergoing various agonizing twists in the effort to make American prices understood by an Argentine who can't speak anything but Spanish." 

 "Maybe I am short on Spanish, but I'm long on Featherlooms. I may not know a senora from a chili con carne, but I know Featherlooms from the waistband to the hem."  She leaned forward, dimpling like fourteen instead of forty.  "And you've noticed—haven't you, T. A.?—that I've got an expressive countenance." 

 Buck leaned forward, too. His smile was almost gone. 

 "I've noticed a lot of things, Emma McChesney. And if you persist in deviling me for one more minute, I'm going to mention a few." 

 Emma McChesney surveyed her cleared desk, locked the top drawer with a snap, and stood up. 

 "If you do 

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