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Updated: June 4, 2025
So far as there bein' any real actin' head of the Corrugated Trust for the time being well, I was it. Anyway, I'd passed along some confidential dope to our Western sales manager, stood by to take a report from the special audit committee, and had an interview with the president of a big bond house, all in one forenoon. That was speedin' up some for a private sec, wa'n't it?
Once Kurt ran across the tireless and implacable Olsen. He seemed a man of dust and sweat and fury. "She's half cut an' over twenty thousand bushels gone to the railroad!" he exclaimed. "An' we're speedin' up." "Olsen, I don't get what's going on," replied Kurt. "All this is like a dream." "Wake up. You'll be out of debt an' a rich man in three days," added Olsen, and went his way.
"Halt that gasoline gadabout o' yourn instanter." "What for, you old Rube?" "Old Rube am I?" sputtered Biff, feeling that the law had been insulted in his person, "jes' fer thet yer under 'rest." "What for?" demanded the driver of the red car angrily. "Fer running daown and grievously wounding a man and then speedin' off without stoppin' ter see if you'd killed him dead or what all.
A girl that's been made confidential stenographer after only one year in an office to have to be afraid, like I am, to pick up the morning's paper." "Paula Krausnick's lunch was wrapped in the paper where Charley Cox got pinched for speedin' speedin' speedin' " "Shut up, Genevieve! Just don't you let my business interfere with yours, Ida Bell.
All thet speedin' in the autoomoobile was jest a-scarin' of me to death fer nothin'. I tell you Link Stevens is crazy about runnin' thet car. Link never hed no sense even with a hoss. He ain't afraid of the devil hisself. If my hair hedn't been white it 'd be white now. No more rides in thet thing fer me! Wal, we ketched Ambrose an' the girl too late.
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