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Two weeks later a man in a Texas full dress suit black frock coat, broad-brimmed soft white hat, and lay-down collar 3-4 inch high, with black, wrought iron necktie entered the wholesale cloak and suit establishment of Zizzbaum & Son, on lower Broadway.
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.
Platt would like the pleasure of your company to dinner this evening," said Zizzbaum, walking away. "Sure," said Miss Asher, looking at the ceiling. "I'd be much pleased. Nine-eleven West Twentieth street. What time?" "Say seven o'clock." "All right, but please don't come ahead of time. I room with a school teacher, and she doesn't allow any gentlemen to call in the room.
"Why, she doesn't know me," said Platt, wonderingly. "She doesn't know anything about me. Would she go? I'm not acquainted with her." "Would she go?" repeated Zizzbaum, with uplifted eyebrows. "Sure, she would go. I will introduce you. Sure, she would go." He called Miss Asher loudly. She came, calm and slightly contemptuous, in her white shirt waist and plain black skirt. "Mr.
Old Zizzbaum had the eye of an osprey, the memory of an elephant and a mind that unfolded from him in three movements like the puzzle of the carpenter's rule. He rolled to the front like a brunette polar bear, and shook Platt's hand. "And how is the good Mr. Navarro in Texas?" he said. "The trip was too long for him this year, so? We welcome Mr. Platt instead."
Miss Asher came, and Platt, of Navarro & Platt, felt for the first time the wonderful bright light of romance and glory descend upon him. He stood still as a granite cliff above the canon of the Colorado, with his wide-open eyes fixed upon her. She noticed his look and flushed a little, which was contrary to her custom. Miss Asher was the crack model of Zizzbaum & Son.
"A bull's eye," said Platt, "and I'd give forty acres of unirrigated Pecos County land to know how you did it." "I knew," grinned Zizzbaum, "just as I know that the rainfall in El Paso for the year was 28.5 inches, or an increase of 15 inches, and that therefore Navarro & Platt will buy a $15,000 stock of suits this spring instead of $10,000, as in a dry year. But that will be to-morrow.
"Now, Mr. Platt," said Zizzbaum, "I want you to see these princess gowns in the light shades. They will be the thing in your climate. This first, if you please, Miss Asher." Swiftly in and out of the dressing-room the prize model flew, each time wearing a new costume and looking more stunning with every change.
There is first a cigar in my private office that will remove from your mouth the taste of the ones you smuggle across the Rio Grande and like because they are smuggled." It was late in the afternoon and business for the day had ended, 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.
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?" "And a good many shadows," said Platt. "I think I like your horses best. I haven't seen a crow-bait since I've been in town." Zizzbaum led him up stairs to show the samples of suits. "Ask Miss Asher to come," he said to a clerk.
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