The Flopper was in deadly, serious earnest; there was no doubt, no
possible room for doubt on that score--one had but to look at the flush
upon his cheeks and note the ring of conviction in his voice. Even Pale
Face Harry's gibes and sneers melted before the unshakable assurance,
and he became, with reservations, noticeably impressed.

A metropolitan newspaper man was struck with the idea of a humorous
series of articles to pay for his vacation, entitled, "Characters I Have
Met In Maine"--and forthwith, perched on the back of the seat behind the
Flopper, proceeded to sketch out the first one, with the mental
determination to get off at Needley for the local color necessary to its
climax.

A soap drummer nudged a fellow drummer whose line was lingerie.

"Ever do Needley?" he grinned.

The lingerie exponent had a sense of humor--he grinned back.

"My house is everlastingly rubbing it into me to open up new territory,"
said the soap salesman.

"Me too," responded the white-goods man.

"Needley," said he of the soap persuasion, "would be virgin soil for any
drummer."

"I'd like to see the finish," said the lingerie man--still grinning.

"Well?" inquired the soap man--still grinning. "What do you say?"