That’s a Woman for You!

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It’s Sunday, and we’ve come to a place called Palermo to sell a bottling machine to a man named Halloran. The manufacturer has promised us three states if we get Halloran’s order away from the Pasteboard Products Container Company.

The cards are stacked against us, but, as Pete says, “The stuff the world hands you on a silver platter never pays off. The worth-while things, you chase out of bramble patches. Then you have to run ’em down in the open.”

They say Halloran’s a tough customer, but he’s given us an appointment, so we stand a fighting chance. The bottling-machine agency is a good side line if we can get it, and Pete says we’ve got to get it, because our tire business in Robinsvale is expanding so fast we’re short of operating capital.

“I see,” I says. “We’re making money so fast we’re broke.”

Pete turns to me impatiently. “There’s a big difference between being broke and being short of operating capital.”

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