nin' to Eve how he was gonna take New York the next
mornin'. After the show we went to a cabaret and still no rise out of
Alex. He was off the gay whirl, he says, and his idea of a holiday was
to sit beside his own fireside, readin' yesterday's mail, while his
wife made the room resound with melody by hummin' "Silver Threads Among
The Gold," the while knittin' a doily for the front-room table.

At this, Eve, which has been gazin' at Alex all night like he was Coney
Island and she was gettin' her first peep, asks if he was married.

"Don't crowd me!" he tells her, tappin' her arm playfully. "I ain't
gonna get married till I make good. By to-morrow night, though, I
reckon I'll be in a position to talk it over with you!"

"Ooooh!!" gasps Eve, turnin' a becomin' shade of red. Can you tell me
why them big league dames fall for these guys like Alex? If you can do
that, I got an easy one for you--I wanna know who started the world.
From one flash at Eve, bein' a married man, I could tell where she'd be
the next night when Alex called--and it wouldn't be--out! The next
minute Eve laughed and tells Alex if he's got as much ability as he has
nerve, he ought to have New York on its ear in twenty-four hours. The
wife asks him will he kindly lay off pesterin' her girl friend to death
and quit boostin' himself for a minute, because we was out for pleasure
and he had played the one record all night.

"Go on, Mister Hanley," butts in Eve, "I love to hear you talk. You're
so different from any one else I've met, and I really believe you
_will_ do something big here, because you're--well--new!"

"You have remarked somethin'!" agrees Alex. "I'm gonna show 'em
somethin' they never seen before and make 'em like it!"

Well, he takes Eve home that night for a starter, and the next mornin'
he's up bright and early at seven, ready to startle Manhattan. He said
he wanted me to go out with him and watch him win my eight hundred
bucks and also to notice the way he worked. He picks up the mornin'
paper, runs through the "Help Wanted" columns for a minute and finally
clears his throat.

"Aha!" he says. "Listen to this--'Wanted. High class automobile
salesman for the Gaflooey light delivery wagon. We have no time for
experiments and successful applicant must make good at once. We don't
want an order taker, but an order _maker_--a real, live, simon-pure
hustler who will start delivering the goods the morning he goes on the
payro