Mr. Morris!" and there was that respectful dropping of the voice which, with him, always preceded the making of any important proposal. "Mr. Morris, I believe if I took a little lope around the country, I believe I could get a bunch of orders for spring delivery, and we would be able to go ahead on a definite plan of expansion for the factory."
Who had said anything about expansion? And yet Milton Morris, sitting here, trying to dig in with his toes and hold back, felt himself being pushed—absolutely pushed—into contemplation of the idea.
Just how good a talker the young man was, Mr. Morris was beginning to realize. "Let's wait a year. You're pushing me on too fast. Besides, I haven't got the money to spare for the trip."
"I've got a little money," confided George, his eyes shining. "I ask you, Mr. Morris, to let me advance myself five hundred dollars on the firm's account. I believe in the future of the automobile, and I believe especially in your car and in you."
This was irresistible. "Go ahead, George, and convince yourself," said Milton Morris indulgently, and threw up his hands, then admitted: "If you could scare up twenty-five or thirty orders, it would sort of give us something to plan on."
