"I want you to let me take this house," said Slim, halting before an imposing structure.
"All right," said Wyeth. "I'll wait for you. Don't get struck on the house girl and stay too long."
Slim disappeared. A moment later, a noise and the barking of a vicious dog came to Wyeth's ears, accompanied immediately by a scuffling. A moment later, Slim emerged from the back way in very much of a hurry, with a bull dog in close pursuit. When he was safe outside once more, he looked about him dubiously. "I don't like this neighborhood!" he said.
"You mean that neighborhood," laughed Wyeth. "Did you make a sale?"
"Make Hell!" cried Slim, still breathing heavily from his nervousness. "Talk about making a sale with a bull dog barking at my heels!" They had, by then, reached a street that led across town, and they turned into this. Wyeth took a few orders, but Slim decided to dispense with further canvassing until the morrow. Several times, Wyeth tried to steer him into a yard, but always he observed that his eye wandered around toward the rear, and since nearly every one kept some kind of a dog—the most of which would rather play than anything else—it was hard to reconcile Slim.
At last he managed to get him through a gate that was close to the rear door, and, while he explained his mission to the cook, Slim gave the house girl a good talk, but she smiled on him and said: "I purchased one from the other gentleman already."
This served to relieve him at least, and also encouraged him to a more concentrated effort later.
When they returned to the office, Slim was again full of the book business. The next day he went out for himself. After a few houses had been made, however, he must have met another "sociable" dog, for, shortly afterward, Wyeth saw him depart.
That afternoon, when they met again at the office, he was surprised to learn that Slim had taken several names, and was in the highest of spirits. Wyeth was too, but from other causes. He had taken about eight orders, when he came into a back yard from an alley. Through a screen, he caught a glimpse of a girl working in the kitchen. He approached the house, and presently knocked on the door. She opened it with an inquiry. He looked up into her face from where he stood on the ground. She looked down into his, and blushed as she looked away. She made an impression, and he was, for a moment, lost in a maze of delight. Soon he was serious, however, and said he wished to speak with her on important business. This was his style. He had observed that agents, the minute a door was opened, began a spiel without getting the attention of the prospective customer, so he made it a practice to get their attention first, and leave them in doubt until he did, before disclosing his business. If he failed to do this, he usually went his way, without letting them know what he was selling. But, to get back to the girl.
She declared that she was very busy at the time, but would be glad if he'd come back shortly. "In about an hour," she advised, as she watched him walk toward the gate. He went his way with a subtle swimming of the head.