"What about?" asked the youngster, rather impudently.
"You tell him I'm—" and then I hesitated, and I said to myself that I wouldn't tell him I was Dawson Black. "Tell him that a salesman from Dawson Black wants to see him."
A minute or two later the boy returned. "Mr. Dunn says whatdeyuh want ter see him for?"
"Tell him I want to show him a new pencil sharpener that we have just got the agency for." I was a little bit exasperated.
The young demon grinned and said, "A'right," in a funny manner, marched into the private office and returned, it seemed without pausing, saying: "Nuttin' doin'."
I hesitated as to what to do, when he added:
"'Tain't no use. Boss got a grouch on this mornin'."
I remembered the rude reception I had given the Cincinnati pencil sharpener man when he called on me, and the way he had come back at me, and I said to myself that, if I could only see Dunn then I'd give him the same kind of medicine. While I stood there wondering what to do, my wish was gratified, for Dunn's door flew open, and out he came hurriedly. He was short, stout, red-faced man, almost bald, and has bristling red whiskers.
He turned around and snapped: