Zizzbaum left Platt with a half-smoked cigar, and came out of the
private office to Son, who was arranging his diamond scarfpin before
a mirror, ready to leave.

"Abey," he said, "you will have to take Mr. Platt around to-night
and show him things. They are customers for ten years. Mr. Navarro
and I we played chess every moment of spare time when he came. That
is good, but Mr. Platt is a young man and this is his first visit to
New York. He should amuse easily."

"All right," said Abey, screwing the guard tightly on his pin. "I'll
take him on. After he's seen the Flatiron and the head waiter at the
Hotel Astor and heard the phonograph play 'Under the Old Apple Tree'
it'll be half past ten, and Mr. Texas will be ready to roll up in
his blanket. I've got a supper engagement at 11:30, but he'll be all
to the Mrs. Winslow before then."

The next morning at 10 Platt walked into the store ready to do
business. He had a bunch of hyacinths pinned on his lapel. Zizzbaum
himself waited on him. Navarro & Platt were good customers, and never
failed to take their discount for cash.

"And what did you think of our little town?" asked Zizzbaum, with
the fatuous smile of the Manhattanite.

"I shouldn't care to live in it," said the Texan. "Your son and I
knocked around quite a little last night. You've got good water, but
Cactus City is better lit up."

"We've got a few lights on Broadway, don't you think, Mr. Platt?"