The Forged Note. Micheaux Oscar

a copy therefor, but I have charged that to the dust, and it has rained since. You think over this proposition and come back tomorrow morning, and we will get down to business. Should you decide to take it up, I shall be glad to have you accompany me an afternoon, and hear me spiel it."

      The following morning, full of book selling, Slim was on hand. Moreover, he wished to begin that morning, but, as Sidney had made no arrangement to that end, he was compelled to wait until the afternoon.

      "I used to sell books in South Carolina," he said later, as he was looking through the book.

      "You have had some experience then," commented Wyeth.

      "Wait until I commence. I'll show you a thing or two."

      "Oh, I have a 'hunch' you'll 'clean up,'" said Wyeth with feigned admiration.

      "You sold a book to somebody I know on Fourteenth Street....," he smiled.

      "I thought you said I sold to many you know. I think I did," said Wyeth innocently.

      "I know this one a little better than the rest," he admitted, now showing his teeth, despite his effort to keep his upper lip stiff.

      "Oh—ho, I see now," laughed Wyeth, good naturedly. After a pause he said:

      "Who is she? Come, 'fess up. At what number does she work?" But at this Slim only laughed, and left his friend curious.

      That afternoon, at two o'clock sharp, they sallied forth. Going to Dalton street, they entered a cafe conducted by some people in the last stage of hook-worm hustle.

      "What'll you genamens have?" asked the waitress, who looked so tired and sleepy.

      Sidney scanned the greasy bill-of-fare, while Slim inquired: "What have you?" As she drawled out the list, Sidney's ears came attentive to the orders being given by others.

      "Snout."

      "Yo's, mistah!"

      "Pig tail 'n' swee' taters."

      "'N' yo's?"

      "Stewed haid."

      "Ah wan' some magetti," sang a small boy on a stool, with papers under his arm.

      "Gimme a yeah sanrich," from one with a very loud mouth.

      Slim was very hard to please, as it now appeared, and was having some difficulty in being satisfied.

      "What is your specialty here?"

      "Ah don' tole you du' ohdahs already. We has hog year, 'n' hog snoot, 'n' pig tail, 'n' collap greens, 'n'—"

      "Give us a pair of feet," interposed Wyeth.

      After the meal, they turned into a side street, crossed a back yard and entered a house from the rear. Ahead, a flight of steps led up through the basement, to the kitchen. Up this they went, and rapped on the kitchen door. It was opened by a woman, presumably the cook. Wyeth raised his hat, while Slim did likewise; whereupon she was very much flattered. Said Wyeth: "Yes, ma'am! How-do-you-do. You will pardon our interrupting you, but I suppose you are the lady employed herein," and gazed into the kitchen before him.

      "Yes," she replied embarrassed. "I work here."

      "Very well, thank you." Then turning, he revealed his honor, bending almost to the floor. "This is Professor Coleman!" Their prospective customer was very profuse as she accepted the introduction, and then was curious to know to whom she was indebted. Presently, unable to withstand the wait, she inquired:

      "Are you preachers?"

      Wyeth looked at Slim who had his hat rolled up, and was showing his teeth, then turned back to the lady and replied that they were not. He then, without further ado, began his spiel, putting more dynamite into it than usual, since he wished to make an impression upon Slim as well.

      "I presume from your English, madam, that you are literarily inclined, in fact, I feel certain you are." He bestowed upon her a hypnotic smile, which he had cultivated for the purpose of impression, and then went on, with eloquence:

      "This is The Tempest, a tale of the great northwest, in which we follow the fortunes of this young man," and he showed his picture on the frontispiece. In this same picture, people seldom recognized himself as the hero. Before long, he had her order, and a half dozen more, and Slim was enthusiastic. When they were on the street for a time again, Slim said, with much admiration:

      "Man, but you are a salesman! The spiel and look you turn on these cooks and maids and house girls, and everybody, is guaranteed to make the dead take notice. I can never get over laughing when I think of the old lady back there, the one who said: 'I am not decided yet as to whether I shall take it,' Then you said, and as serious as she was: 'Let me decide for you in this,'" and then he gave up to laughter for some minutes.

      "Think you can learn it?" said Sidney.

      "I want you to let me take this house," said Slim, halting before an imposing structure.

      "All right," said Wyeth. "I'll wait for you. Don't get struck on the house girl and stay too long."

      Slim disappeared. A moment later, a noise and the barking of a vicious dog came to Wyeth's ears, accompanied immediately by a scuffling. A moment later, Slim emerged from the back way in very much of a hurry, with a bull dog in close pursuit. When he was safe outside once more, he looked about him dubiously. "I don't like this neighborhood!" he said.

      "You mean that neighborhood," laughed Wyeth. "Did you make a sale?"

      "Make Hell!" cried Slim, still breathing heavily from his nervousness. "Talk about making a sale with a bull dog barking at my heels!" They had, by then, reached a street that led across town, and they turned into this. Wyeth took a few orders, but Slim decided to dispense with further canvassing until the morrow. Several times, Wyeth tried to steer him into a yard, but always he observed that his eye wandered around toward the rear, and since nearly every one kept some kind of a dog—the most of which would rather play than anything else—it was hard to reconcile Slim.

      At last he managed to get him through a gate that was close to the rear door, and, while he explained his mission to the cook, Slim gave the house girl a good talk, but she smiled on him and said: "I purchased one from the other gentleman already."

      This served to relieve him at least, and also encouraged him to a more concentrated effort later.

      When they returned to the office, Slim was again full of the book business. The next day he went out for himself. After a few houses had been made, however, he must have met another "sociable" dog, for, shortly afterward, Wyeth saw him depart.

      That afternoon, when they met again at the office, he was surprised to learn that Slim had taken several names, and was in the highest of spirits. Wyeth was too, but from other causes. He had taken about eight orders, when he came into a back yard from an alley. Through a screen, he caught a glimpse of a girl working in the kitchen. He approached the house, and presently knocked on the door. She opened it with an inquiry. He looked up into her face from where he stood on the ground. She looked down into his, and blushed as she looked away. She made an impression, and he was, for a moment, lost in a maze of delight. Soon he was serious, however, and said he wished to speak with her on important business. This was his style. He had observed that agents, the minute a door was opened, began a spiel without getting the attention of the prospective customer, so he made it a practice to get their attention first, and leave them in doubt until he did, before disclosing his business. If he failed to do this, he usually went his way, without letting them know what he was selling. But, to get back to the girl.

      She declared that she was very busy at the time, but would be glad if he'd come back shortly. "In about an hour," she advised, as she watched him walk toward the gate. He went his way with a subtle swimming of the head.

      He passed the next hour mechanically, made several sales, of which he was hardly aware, and at the end of the hour, he returned. She was waiting for him. He smothered his interest, and told her the story in brief.

      "Oh, that's fine!" she exclaimed, in an ecstasy of delight, when