I am afraid he is going to have a fever. It's
fortunate he came home. He was not able to attend to his business."
"Can I see him?"
"Come in," said Mrs. Barry.
The room was covered with a worn carpet, but looked neat and
comfortable. There was a cheap sewing-machine in one corner, and some
plain furniture. There was a bedroom opening out of this room, and here
it was that George Barry lay upon the bed.
"Is that Paul Hoffman, mother?" was heard from the bedroom.
"Yes," said Paul, answering for himself.
"Go in, if you like," said Mrs. Barry. "My son wishes to see you.
"How do you feel now, George?" asked Paul.
"Not very well, Paul. I didn't give up a minute too soon. I think I am
going to have a fever."
"That is not comfortable," said Paul. "Still, you have your mother to
take care of you."
"I don't know how I should get along without her. Can you look after my
business as long as I am sick?"
"Yes; I have nothing else to do."
"Then that is off my mind. By the way, how many ties did you sell this
afternoon?"
"Fifteen."
"What!" demanded Barry, in surprise. "You sold fifteen?"
"Yes."
"Why, I never sold so many as that in an afternoon."
"Didn't you?" said Paul, gratified. "Then you think I did well?"
"Splendidly. How did you do it?"
"You see, there was a young man from the country that I persuaded to buy
six, as he could not get them so cheap at home.
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