I’m harmless. Please
let me out. Just for a little while. Do let me out. I’ll do
anything. Please—”
Frank looked at the old man. “He’s there all
right,” he said. “He’s there.”
“Of course he’s there,” said the old man.
“I wouldn’t sell you an empty bottle. What do you take
me for? In fact, I wouldn’t sell this one at all, for
sentimental reasons, only I’ve had the shop a good many years
now, and you’re my first customer.”
Frank put his ear to the bottle again. “Let me out. Let me
out. Oh, please let me out. I’ll—”
“My God!” said Frank uneasily. “Does he go on
like that all the time?”
“Very probably,” said the old man. “I
can’t say I listen. I prefer the radio.”
“It seems rather tough on him,” said Frank
sympathetically.
“Maybe, ”said the old man. “They don’t
seem to like bottles. Personally, I do. They fascinate me. For
example, I—”
“Tell me, ”said Frank. “Is he really
harmless?”
“Oh, yes,” said the old man. “Bless you, yes.
Some say they’re tricky—eastern blood and all
that—I never found him so. I used to let him out; he’d
do his stuff, then back he’d go again. I must say, he’s
very efficient.”
“He could get me anything?”
“Absolutely anything.”
“And how much do you want for him?” said Frank.
“Oh I don’t know,” said the old man.
“Ten million dollars, perhaps.”
“I say! I haven’t got that. Still, if he’s as
good as you say, maybe I could work it off on the hire purchase
system.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll say five dollars instead.
I’ve got all I want, really. Shall I wrap him up for you
?”
Frank paid over his five dollars, and hurried home with the
precious bottle, terrified of breaking it. As soon as he was in his
room he pulled out the stopper. Out flowed a prodigious quantity of
greasy smoke, which immediately solidified into the figure of a
gross and fleshy Oriental, six feet six in height, with rolls of
fat, a hook nose, a wicked white to his eye, vast double chins,
altogether like a film-producer, only larger. Frank, striving
desperately for something to say, ordered shashlik, kebabs, and
Turkish delight.
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