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pocket.
    â€œOkay?” said Grady.
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œYou won’t have to sign a voucher on that advance. And you needn’t bother to make an exact accounting on the expense money. We’re informal. We like to give our agents a free hand. So far as it’s consistent with good business practice.” He started the car and turned to Norwood with a grin. “I have a surprise waiting for you.”
    They drove half a mile or so through the Arkansas side of town and pulled into an alley full of puddles, behind an ice plant. As it turned out there were two surprises. The first was that there were two cars to be delivered, not one. There they were, bumper to bumper, a big 98 Oldsmobile in front and a Pontiac Catalina behind, gleaming and smelling pleasantly of new paint. “We always give them a coat of Duco,” said Grady. “It’s a small enough investment and it can add two hundred dollars to a car’s value. That Olds is like new. Twelve thousand actual miles. Never used a pint of oil. It’s a clean car too. Well taken care of. It will be a joy to drive. You won’t even know you’re pulling anything with that new reflex tow bar. It has a patented action. We’ve just started using those and they are dandies.”
    An old man in khakis and a blue suit coat came up to open Grady’s door. He kept one hand in his pocket and his shoulders were hunched up against the drizzle. He had an orange folder of RJR cigarette papers up in his hatband to keep them dry. They were getting wet.
    â€œThis is my brother Tilmon,” said Grady. Then he raised his voice and said, “Tilmon, this is Norwood. He’s our new driver. He’s a good one too. He’s a dandy. He’s the man who rode the mule around the world.”
    Tilmon snickered and shook hands with Norwood. There was a frosty glaze on top of his right sleeve where he had been wiping his nose. He took the other hand out of his pocket and gave Norwood a flyer. It said, Need $$$$$ —FAST? Get one of Grady’s cost-controlled loans—BY MAIL! There was a picture of Grady at the bottom holding a fistful of money. Yes, Grady is ready to lend you up to $950.00-—IN THE PRIVACY OF YOUR OWN HOME!
    â€œHow are you?” said Tilmon.
    â€œJust fine,” said Norwood.
    â€œGrady is a cutter, ain’t he?”
    â€œHe sure is.”
    â€œHow do you like him?”
    â€œI like him all right.”
    â€œYou do what he says now.”
    â€œI will.”
    â€œJust to look at Tilmon,” said Grady, “you wouldn’t think he was a very astute businessman, would you?”
    Norwood looked him over again. “ I wouldn’t have thought it, naw.”
    â€œVolume is his middle name. Isn’t that right, Tilmon? I say volume is your middle name.”
    Tilmon said “Tee-hee-hee.” His tongue fell out as if to receive a coin.
    The second surprise was Miss Phillips. She was sitting in the rain on her suitcase—a handsome blue air travel model—with a newspaper on her head. She was eating peaches from a can with a wooden ice cream spoon. She was a long tall redbone girl. She was wearing a shiny green party dress with shoulder straps, and some opentoed shoes that were just on the point of exploding with toes. She glowered. She looked formidable.
    â€œYou run off with the gotdamn car keys and left the doors locked, Fring,” she said. Her voice was a piercing whine.
    â€œSo I did. I’m sorry about that, Yvonne.”
    I’m not about to pay for cleaning this dress. Look at it.”
    â€œWe’ll take care of it. Everything will be wonderful. Just keep your shirt on a minute.”
    â€œDon’t tell me what to do.”
    â€œNorwood,” said Grady, “this is the extra added attraction. I want you to meet Miss Yvonne Phillips. She hails from Belzoni, Mississippi, by way of New Orleans, the Crescent City. She is a dandy. Our talent