"Don't mind the loss of a few days, George," she said, cheerfully; "we
shall be able to get along very well."
"It'll only be part loss, mother," he said. "I've got Paul Hoffman to
take my place for half the profits."
"Paul Hoffman! Do I know him?"
"I don't think he has ever been here but I have known him for a year."
"Can you trust him?"
"Yes, I'm not at all afraid. He is a smart boy, and as honest as he is
smart. I think he will sell nearly as much as I would."
"That is an excellent arrangement. You needn't feel uneasy, then."
"No, the business will go on right."
"I should like to see your salesman."
"You'll see him to-night, mother. He's coming round this evening to let
me know how he's got along, and hand over the money he's taken."
"You'd better be quiet now, George, and go to sleep, if you can. I'll
make you some warm tea. I think it'll do you good."
Meanwhile Paul assumed charge of George Barry's business. He was sorry
his friend was sick, but he congratulated himself on getting into
business so soon.
"It's more respectable than selling prize packages," thought Paul. "I
wish I had a stand of my own."
He was still a street merchant, but among street merchants there are
grades as well as among merchants whose claim to higher respectability
rests upon having rent to pay. Paul felt that it was almost like having
a shop of his own.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56