As Dukey attempted the hand shake, he ended up slipping on a puddle of soda someone had spilled, and went tumbling forward, barely escaping the blow to his head, but grasping at anything in reach to keep himself upright, he caught onto Clara's bottom through the four-leaf clover-covered dress, as she was hastily dragged away by Mr. Klutz.<br/><br/>"Stop! Please, wait! It wasn't my fault..." But they were gone, already. All he had was the receipt, and the determination that next time, he would be ready for the old man.<br/><br/>He went back into the Tractors Are Us, and asked to see a manager. As the manager approached, he quickly showed the receipt, commenting, "one of your customers dropped this, and I'd like to return it. Could I get the address, please?" He knew it was an odd request, but he trusted his gut that he would not be refused. After all, he appeared no less than a perfect gentleman. And he was doing them a favor.<br/><br/>The manager went to a computer terminal, typed in the Frequent Shopper ID number, and looked Dukey over, before revealing the wanted information. "Says here, she lives on a farm not far from here...69 Maple Run Lane."<br/><br/>"Thank you ever so much," Dukey replied sincerely, and handed the manager a 20-dollar bill for his trouble. He walked out, whistling happily, thinking<em>what could be luckier than a young lady clad in clovers?</em><br/><br/>His faith in the psychic restored, he got back in his car, and drove off, returning to work with his nuts and bolts. He would see Clara again, if it killed him...which it might.<br/><br/>It only took him 35 years, but here was what he had been searching for. She looked to be in her early 20s, but that did not bother him in the least. He now knew where to find her. But what about her Daddy?