It is well that hay fever and colds do not obtain in thehealthful vicinity of Cactus City， Texas， for the dry goodsemporium of Navarro & Platt， situated there， is not to besneezed at.
Twenty thousand people in Cactus City scatter theirsilver coin with liberal hands for the things that theirhearts desire. The bulk of this semiprecious metal goesto Navarro & Platt. Their huge brick building coversenough ground to graze a dozen head of sheep. You canbuy of them a rattlesnake-skin necktie， an automobileor an eighty-five dollar， latest style， ladies’ tan coat intwenty different shades. Navarro & Platt first introducedpennies west of the Colorado River. They had beenranchmen with business heads， who saw that the worlddid not necessarily have to cease its revolutions after freegrass went out.
Every Spring， Navarro， senior partner， fifty-five， halfSpanish， cosmopolitan， able， polished， had “gone on” toNew York to buy goods. This year he shied at taking upthe long trail. He was undoubtedly growing older； and helooked at his watch several times a day before the hourcame for his siesta.
“John，” he said， to his junior partner， “you shall go onthis year to buy the goods.”
Platt looked tired.“m told，” said he， “that New York is a plumb deadtown； but I’ll go. I can take a whirl in San Antone for a fewdays on my way and have some fun.”
Two weeks later a man in a Texas full dress suit—blackfrock coat， broad-brimmed soft white hat， and lay-downcollar 3-4 inch high， with black， wrought iron necktie—entered the wholesale cloak and suit establishment ofZizzbaum & Son， on lower Broadway.
Old Zizzbaum had the eye of an osprey， the memory ofan elephant and a mind that unfolded from him in threemovements like the puzzle of the carpenter’s rule. Herolled to the front like a brunette polar bear， and shookPlatt’s hand.
“And how is the good Mr. Navarro in Texas？” he said.
“The trip was too long for him this year， so？ We welcomeMr. Platt instead.”
“A bull’s eye，” said Platt， “and I’d give forty acres ofunirrigated Pecos County land to know how you did it.”
“I knew，” grinned Zizzbaum， “just as I know that therainfall in El Paso for the year was 28.5 inches， or anincrease of 15 inches， and that therefore Navarro & Plattwill buy a 15，000 stock of suits this spring instead of10，000， as in a dry year. But that will be to-morrow.
There is first a cigar in my private office that will removefrom your mouth the taste of the ones you smuggle acrossthe Rio Grande and like—because they are smuggled.”
It was late in the afternoon and business for the day hadended， Zizzbaum left Platt with a half-smoked cigar， andcame out of the private office to Son， who was arranginghis diamond scarfpin before a mirror， ready to leave.
“Abey，” he said， “you will have to take Mr. Platt aroundto-night and show him things. They are customers for tenyears. Mr. Navarro and I we played chess every momentof spare time when he came. That is good， but Mr. Plattis a young man and this is his first visit to New York. Heshould amuse easily.”
“All right，” said Abey， screwing the guard tightly on hispin. “I’ll take him on. After he’s seen the Flatiron and thehead waiter at the Hotel Astor and heard the phonographplay ‘Under the Old Apple Tree’ it’ll be half past ten， andMr. Texas will be ready to roll up in his blanket. I’ve gota supper engagement at 11：30， but he’ll be all to the Mrs.
Winslow before then.”
The next morning at 10 Platt walked into the storeready to do business. He had a bunch of hyacinths pinnedon his lapel. Zizzbaum himself waited on him. Navarro &Platt were good customers， and never failed to take theirdiscount for cash.
“And what did you think of our little town？” askedZizzbaum， with the fatuous smile of the Manhattanite.
“I shouldn’t care to live in it，” said the Texan. “Your sonand I knocked around quite a little last night. You’ve gotgood water， but Cactus City is better lit up.”
“We’ve got a few lights on Broadway， don’t you think，Mr. Platt？”
“And a good many shadows，” said Platt. “I think I likeyour horses best. I haven’t seen a crow-bait since I’ve beenin town.”
Zizzbaum led him up stairs to show the samples of suits.
“Ask Miss Asher to come，” he said to a clerk.
Miss Asher came， and Platt， of Navarro & Platt， felt forthe first time the wonderful bright light of romance andglory descend upon him. He stood still as a granite cliffabove the ca？on of the Colorado， with his wide-open eyesfixed upon her. She noticed his look and flushed a little，which was contrary to her custom.
Miss Asher was the crack model of Zizzbaum & Son.
She was of the blond type known as “medium，” and hermeasurements even went the required 38-25-42 standarda little better. She had been at Zizzbaum’s two years， andknew her business. Her eye was bright， but cool； and hadshe chosen to match her gaze against the optic of thefamed basilisk， that fabulous monster’s gaze would havewavered and softened first. Incidentally， she knew buyers.
“Now， Mr. Platt，” said Zizzbaum， “I want you to seethese princess gowns in the light shades. They will be thething in your climate. This first， if you please， Miss Asher.”
Swiftly in and out of the dressing-room the prize modelflew， each time wearing a new costume and looking morestunning with every change. She posed with absolute self-possession before the stricken buyer， who stood， tonguetiedand motionless， while Zizzbaum orated oilily of thestyles. On the model’s face was her faint， impersonalprofessional smile that seemed to cover something likeweariness or contempt.
When the display was over Platt seemed to hesitate.
Zizzbaum was a little anxious， thinking that his customermight be inclined to try elsewhere. But Platt was onlylooking over in his mind the best building sites in CactusCity， trying to select one on which to build a house forhis wife-to-be—who was just then in the dressing-roomtaking off an evening gown of lavender and tulle.