One day when I called he was serving several men at his bar, and when he saw me he said: “No use comin’ in here with that bill, kid. I ain’t goin’ to pay it. If your boss comes up here I’ll bust him in the nose. His milk is no good and he’s no good.”

“Mister,” I said, “I know he is no good, but I have to work and want to keep my job. If you knew just how hard my boss is you would feel sorry for me instead of being angry. He is so hard and no good that he told me if I did not collect your bill of two dollars today I need not come to work tomorrow, and that’s why I’m here.”

The customers looked at me. I stood my ground.

“Hell,” said the man, “I didn’t think he was that bad. Here, take the lousy money.”

I hurried back to the milkman. “Here’s Mr. Finucane’s two dollars.”

“How on earth did you ever collect it?”