The traveling man riding over the Montana prairies inquired of a native, “Does Walter Malter live near here?”
“No,” was the reply.
“Well, do you happen to know where I can find him?”
“No,” said the other.
The traveling man was puzzled. “Dear me,” he said. “I must have lost my way. Perhaps you can tell me where Mr. William Bluff, familiarly known as ‘Grizzly Bill’ hangs out?”
“I can. Right here. I am Grizzly Bill.”
“But,” expostulated the tenderfoot traveler, “they told me that Malter lived within a gunshot of you.”
“Well,” said the other, “he did.” (Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang, May, 1920)