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Updated: May 19, 2025
There was silence while we absorbed this unpleasant bit of information. Gootes was the first to regain his usual cockiness and he asked, "You say fiasco, professor. O K can you tell us just why it was a fiasco? I know they stuck enough soup under it to blow the whole works and when it went off it gave out with a good bang." "Certainly. Cynodon dactylon spreads in what may be called jumps.
"Weener sahib, fate has tied us together." I hoped not. I was weary of Gootes and his phony accents. J S Francis, World Renowned Chemist, exclusively in the Intelligencer. You know. Suppress her unfortunate sex. "Anyway she didnt grasp her chance. Practically told W R to go to hell.
I must say I was favorably impressed by the appearance of my words in this form, for they somehow looked more important and enduring. While still engaged in this task I was slapped so heartily on the back I was knocked forward against the typewriter and Gootes perched himself on a corner of the desk. "Working the jolly old mill, what? I say, the old bugger wants to know where your stuff is.
"Youre hired, bejesus," proclaimed Gootes, and of course I was, for there was no doubt a brilliantly successful figure like Le ffaçasé whatever my opinion of his intemperate language or failure in the niceties of deportment, he was a forceful man had sized me up in a flash and sensed my ability before I'd written a single line for his paper.
"Listen, Gootes," I swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and sipped a little beer. "I want to help you get your story." He waved his hand and pulled a handkerchief out of his ear.
"Ah; you are unconcerned with catastrophes which don't affect man." "Local man," substituted Gootes. "Los Angeles man. Pithecanthropus moviensis. Stiffs in Constantinople are strictly AP stuff." "It seems to me," I broke in, "that you are both assuming too much. I don't know of anything that calls for the word catastrophe.
His name was Rafe Slafe which I thought an improbable combination of syllables and he was so chubby in every part you imagined you saw the smile which ought to have gone with such a face and figure. Before his breath had settled down to a normal routine, Gootes had rushed upon him with an enthusiastic, "Ah, Rafello muchacho, give to me the abrazo; como usted, compañero?"
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