He found that he could say many things truthful about the merits of Little Sister. He had a convincing manner; the young farmer listened.
"Let me take you for a ride," Randy offered, and
away they went along the country roads, and through the main streets of the town in less time that it takes to say—"Jack Robinson."
When they came back, the children ran out to see, and Randy took them down the road and back again. "You can carry the whole family," he said, "when you go——"
The man's wife came out. She refused to ride. She was afraid.
But Randy talked her over. "My mother felt like that. But once you are in it is different."
She climbed in, and came back with her face shining.
"I am going to buy the car," her husband said to her.
Randy's heart jumped. Somehow he had felt that it would not really happen. He had had little faith in his qualities as salesman. Yet, after all, it had happened, and he had sold his car.
Riding down the hill, he was conscious of a new sense of achievement. It was all very well to dream of writing masterpieces. But here was something tangible.