The first snag I hit in my campaign to raise this sugar is no less than Mr. Nathan Shapiro. Before I get half-ways through telling Nate about my scheme to personally promote my clash with Christopher of Columbus, why, Nate throws up his hands and hollers that I'm cuckoo. He's all steamed up. They's a million reasons why I shouldn't think of such a thing, he says, yet when I pin him down he can only name one reason. That's that I ain't got no experience as a fight promoter.
"Nate," I says, "Noah never had no experience with boats, but he sailed a mean ark! Adam never had no experience at nothing and"
"And he got throwed out of the Garden of Eden on his ear!" butts in Nate. "You go boundin' around tryin' to raise any jack in this slab and 'at's what'll happen to us! These yokels is closer than a tie game. They wouldn't give a dime to see Niagara Falls run backward—can you picture 'em givin' you pennies to put into a box fight in New York? Be yourself!"
"I'll bet you five hundred bucks I raise the dough in a week," I says; "money talks!"
"Money may talk in some places," sneers Nate, "but you'll find it deaf and dumb here! I won't make no bet with you, though. You're too lucky for me, kid. Say—if you fell off a dock, you'd come up with a tube of radium in each hand!"
The next time I see Nate, why I ain't got no tube of radium in each hand, but I got enough money in eath hand to buy 'em!
My second interview is with Spence Brock. Spence
