Lallapaloosa Limited
surface of his office like the genie which the fisherman innocently permitted to escape from the bottle.
"There isn't one reorganization scheme in a hundred that isn't crooked somewhere."
"According to that, if a business is unsuccessful it ought to be allowed to go to pot for fear that somebody might make a profit in putting it on its feet," she countered. "I think you're a violent, irascible, prejudiced old man!"
"All the same," he retorted, "show me a reorganization scheme and I'll show you a flimflam! What's this one? Bet you anything you like it's as crooked as a ram's horn. I don't have to hear about it. Don't want to read the plan. But I'll bust it—higher than Hades. See if I don't!"
He spat the remaining filaments of his stogy from the window and fished out another.
"How do we come into it, anyhow?" he demanded.
"Doctor—I mean Mister Barrows," replied Miss Wiggin.
"Oh, yes. Of course. Well, you send for him to come down here and sign the papers."
"What papers?"
"The complaint and order to show cause."
"But there isn't any."
"There will be, all right, by the time he gets here."
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