“You can’t put me oud,” said the delicatessen dealer. “I vill stay in der house mit you.”
While the Rovers ate and the delicatessen dealer sipped one cup of coffee after another, the former gave a few of the details of what had brought them on the trip.
“I’d like to go oud Vest mit you, but I can’t do it,” said Hans Mueller. “I got to tend to my chain of stores. Last veek I opened me a new one, and next month I’m going to open anudder. Dat vill make fourteen all told.”
“You must be getting rich, Uncle Hans,” remarked Randy.
“Veil, I make enough py mine stores to keep de mule from de window.”
“The mule from the window?” queried Fred, in perplexity.
“Yes. You know vat I mean. Maybe he don’t was a mule; maybe he was a lion. Anyway, he was some kind of a wild animals.”
“Oh, I know what you mean!” exclaimed Jack. “You mean ‘keep the wolf from the door.’”
“Yes, dot’s him,” answered the delicatessen dealer complacently.