“WANTED—A venerable looking man with white beard and medical degree. Good pay to right applicant.”
“What’s that?” asked Average Jones with awakened interest.
“Only a quack medical concern looking for a stall to impress their come-ons,” explained Waldemar.
Average Jones leaned over to scan the paper in his turn.
“Here’s one,” said he, and read:
WANTED—Performer on B-flat trombone. Can use at once. Apply with instrument, after 1 p. m. 300 East 100th Street.
“That seems ordinary enough,” said Waldemar.
“What’s it doing in a daily paper? There must be—er—technical publications—er—journals, you know, for this sort of demand.”
“When Average’s words come slow, you’ve got him interested,” commented Bertram. “Sure sign.”
“Nevertheless, he’s right,” said Waldemar. “It is rather misplaced.”