"Well," says Alex, "there's gonna be a fearful shortage of all kinds of meats and vegetables, because all the available food in the U. S. is about to be seized for the army. This time next year we'll all prob'ly be livin' on bread and water and lucky to get it!"
Hector gets as white as precipitated chalk.
"You don't mean it!" he gasps, gettin' half outa his chair.
"It's a fact," says Alex. "I was only readin' it this mornin'."
I thought Hector was gonna fall dead at our feet.
"But—but what am I gonna do?" he says, kinda dazed.
"What are you gonna do?" I sneers. "What are we all gonna do?"
"You don't get me!" he says. "It's all well enough for you guys which can eat common ordinary food like ham and eggs and steaks and chops, but I can't go that stuff! All the time I ain't out at the ball park I'm experimentin' with different kinds of stuff to eat, and if they go to work and shut off all them rare vegetables and so forth on me—well, I don't eat, that's all!"
He gets up and reaches for his hat.
"Well," says Alex, "I can see that you and me is pretty much alike. I can't eat porterhouse steaks and French lamb chops as a steady diet, either! My stomach craves them rare dishes the same as yours does, and it sure looks like you and me is gonna starve to death when this food conservation thing goes through!"