"'V'ere do you trafel?' said he.
"'Oh, Colorado, Utah, and up into Montana and Wyoming,' I answered.
"The old man took his feet off the cushions and his arms from the back of his seat. I thought I had him right then.
"'Dot's a goot contry,' said he. 'How long haf you been in deese beezness?' 'Five years,' said I. 'Always mit de same house?' 'Yes,' said I, 'I don't believe in changing.' The old man had let his cigar go out and he lit a match and let it burn his finger. I was sure that he was after me then.
"I didn't tell him that I had been a stock boy for nearly four years and on the road a little over one. It is a good sign, you know, if a man has been with a house a long time.
"'How's beezness this season?' said he.
"'Oh, it's holding up to the usual mark,' I said like an old timer.
"'Who do you sell in Denver?' said he.
"That was a knocker. 'Denver is a hard town to do business in,' said I. 'In cities, you know, the big people are hard to handle and the little ones you must look out for.' That was another strong point; I wanted him to see that I didn't care to do business with shaky concerns.
"'Vell,' said he after a while, 'you shouldt haf a stronger line and den you could sell de beeg vons.'