"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Yes, yes!" the newcomer exclaimed. "I am in search of a sound."
"Come in," invited the puzzled host. "I don't know what you mean. There's a Long Island Sound nearby, people upstairs make a lot of unseemly sounds, and I can sing a bit-"
"It was in here," thundered the visitor, "and I want it."
Satisfied that the man was harmless and that an asylum attendant would arrive eventually, the salesman invited his guest to be seated.
"My name," said the excited fellow "is Jack Johnston."
"The fighter?"
"No, and I'm not crazy," the guest went on. "I'm a radio author and -"
"And not crazy?" suggested the host, with arched brows.
"I stage the Buck Rogers in the 25th Century at WABC," went on Mr. Johnston. In a broadcast in a few days we will use a psychic ray, and we can't find a sound effect for it - that is, we couldn't, but you have one. I heard it as I was going by your door. And I want it."
"Yeah," the salesman said, "I get you now. I know the program, and the soung was my electric razor."