The Alkali Mike Matter

From Hollywood, it's time now for... Johnny Dollar. Ah, to the joy, Kimmy Hard, to be here in the vise of my lover boy. Meg McCarthy. She's in hung-a-gold, and for me that. Oh, Meg, I'd recognize that soft, dulcet boy for yours anywhere.

How are you? Oh, Johnny boy, I've got trouble. And where are you, by the way? What hopeful is the name of the place? Port hopeful, huh? You just can't stay away from the sea in chips and saining men, can you?

And whose leg would you be after trying to pull it now? Part hopeful Nevada. Nevada? Right house in the middle of the desert. What are you doing there? And why do they call it a port?

They have identical things I'll be telling you when you get here. And if you take to my advice, you won't waste no time along the way. There's trouble out here. Insurance trouble. Oh, what company?

West, they call it. The very same identical company that's insured the life of this relationship Man, what's laying dead? It's me feet. Dead, it's your feet. Meg, you... you don't mean... Just a minute. If you're by way of implicating the night on him in, you're just an evil-minded-sustry-tard-boy.

Certainly, of course. Well, it can't, it depends. Oh, double-talking is that supposed to... What? Get your hands off. Meg, what's the matter? Take them, brace them out of here, and you... Meg! I'll grab the first plane.

Bob Bailey, in the exciting adventures of a man with the action-packed expense account, America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yes, truly. Johnny Dollar. Four and a half. Yours truly Johnny Dollar. Expense account submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar.