"I guess you'd call it slang. I mean you have to mingle with the little people to get an idea of the currents."
"And when you get this idea?"
"When you get the idea, you can go to work." Hall wrote the name and address of the editor of one of the big weeklies in the States on the blank. "Vice-President Gamburdo is man of hour here today," he wrote. "Tomorrow may be man of hour in all Latin America. Arranging for interview. Can you use? Matthew Hall."
"And now you are working?"
Hall turned the blank around so that Androtten could read the text of his cable. "I'll let you in on my secret," he laughed.
The Dutchman read the text. "Interesting," he said. "Damn interesting."
"I'm afraid it's just routine."
"Oh, never that." The Dutchman sighed. "When such vital personalities as Señor Gamburdo are routine to you, Mr. Hall, I imagine that my story has only a small chance of ever being told. But I suppose that is merely as it should be."
"Hell, no, Mr. Androtten. I'll tell you what we'll do. As soon as I have my interview with Gamburdo, we'll sit down and have our chat and then I'll query the Saturday Evening Post or Collier's and whatever they offer we'll split down the middle."
"You make me happy as hell, Mr. Hall. But please, money is no object. Please keep all of the money."