"Listen!" he says. "The bet was that I make good at the first thing I tackle, wasn't it--all right! Now this here job looks good to me. Ten thousand a year is nice money to start. If you're fair minded, you'll admit that in goin' after this job I'm up against a pretty stiff proposition. In the first place I don't know no more about automobiles than you do about raisin' hogs. I never sold one in my life. I don't know a soul in New York outside of you, Cousin Alice and that girl I took home last night, so I can't furnish no references on my ability as a salesman. The advertisement says you have to have 'em. As you say, they'll be thousands after that job. Fellers with swell fronts, high soundin' records in back of 'em and gilt-edged references. Now under all that handicap, if I walk in there and get the job, won't you admit I made good?" "If you go down and ask for that job and they turn you down, you'll pay me, eh?" I asks him. "At once!" he says, firmly. "C'mon, Alex!" I tells him, puttin' on my hat. "I hate to cop a sucker bet like this, but maybe losin' it will reduce the size of your head a trifle and do you good!" Once out in the street, he stretches his arms, pulls his hat down hard over his dome and stamps his feet. "Watch me close!" he says. "Watch me close and you'll get some valuable tips on how to put yourself over. I told you I was gonna be new--just observe how I go after this job. The average New Yorker who wanted it would go right down to the office, present his, now, credentials and ask for it, wouldn't he?" I nodded. "The early worm catches the fish, y'know!" I says; "and in New York here--the town that made pep and hustle famous--a man would be down there at six a.m. waitin' for the place to open. Why, there's prob'ly a hundred or more there right now!" "I hope there's a million!" he comes back. "It'll be more satisfaction when they hire me over all them others. Now I ain't goin' near that there office as yet. My system gets away from the old stuff--just keep your eye on Cousin Alex from now on!" He buys a newspaper, finds the automobile section and, finally, a big display advertisement of the Gaflooey Auto Company. He takes out a letter from his pocket and on the back of it he marks the price, style, and a lot of other dope about Gaflooey light delivery wagons and then throws the paper away. "Now," he grins, "I'm all ready, except to give them folks my full name for the payroll!" At that minute, somebody slaps me on the back and I swing around to see Buck Rice chucklin' at me. Buck used to be one of the best second basemen that ever picked up a bat, till his legs went back on him and he got into the automobile game. I remember thinkin' how funny it was that he come along right then when me and Alex was talkin' about autos. "Well, how are they breakin', Buck?" I says, shakin' hands and introducin' Alex.