CHAPTER NINE
Someone was pounding on the office door, practically tearing it off the hinges. "Hey, Bertini!"
Bertini, his hair a mass of glistening ringlets, his cheeks dusted with a fine powder and wearing a blue-black tuxedo, yelled, "I'm busy."
The pounding continued. Sighing wearily, he rose and opened the door. His bartender, thin as a pencil, stood there. "You gotta see this dame, boss. I'm telling you, you gotta see this girl!"
He followed the man's pointing finger to view a beautiful brunette sitting by herself at the bar. "You break in here just to tell me about some broad, Harvey?"
"Oh, yeah! Didn't you always tell me to tip you off when something real lovely strolls in? Take a real good look."
The roadhouse was filled with high-pitched screams. The musicians were swinging,
