“Ninety-three,” he mentioned.
“Not quoted,” I told him.
“Ninety-two, then!” he dared me.
“That was blob, too. But ninety was forty-seven and a half; eighty-nine opened at forty-five and lifted a half. Ninety-three in New York was fifty-five and was a half higher in Philadelphia. Butter to Chicago retailers, best (ninety-two to ninety-four) tubs, fifty-three, prints one and a half more, cartons yet a half higher. Good tubs——”
He held up a hand. I’d looked up butter, he, figured; so he skipped down the column. “Eggs?” he asked me.
“Extras, first or miscellaneous?” I asked him. “Checks or dirties? Forty-eight to forty-nine, and down to twenty-five.”
I shook him; but that bulldog jaw was not for nothing. He still held on. “Cheese!” he dared me.
“Flats?” I came back at him. “Twins? Daisies? Double Daisies? Longhorns or square prints? And Chicago? Or Fond du Lac? New York or Philadelphia? Flats at Fond du Lac opened twenty-six and three quarters; twins——”
Never had I uttered anything more soothing; he had nothing whatever to say. And I’ll say this for him, he may have been stubborn and hard to convince, but once won over, he came all the way.