Some of my readers may not appreciate the difference, but to
Paul it was a great one. He was not a merchant prince, to be sure,
but he had a fixed place of business, and with his experience he felt
confident he could make it pay.
"I am sure I can make from ten to fifteen dollars a week," he said to
himself. "I averaged over a dollar a day when I worked for George Barry,
and then I only got half-profits. Now I shall have the whole."
This consideration was a very agreeable one. He would be able to
maintain his mother and little Jimmy in greater comfort than before, and
this he cared more for than for any extra indulgences for himself.
In fact, he could relieve his mother entirely from the necessity of
working, and yet live better than at present. When Paul thought of this,
it gave him a thrill of satisfaction, and made him feel almost like a
man.
He set to work soliciting custom, and soon had sold three neckties at
twenty-five cents each.
"All that money is mine," he thought, proudly. "I haven't got to hand
any of it over to George Barry. That's a comfort."
As this thought occurred to him he recognized an old acquaintance
strolling along the sidewalk in his direction. It was no other than Jim
Parker, the friend and crony of Mike Donovan, who will be remembered as
figuring in not a very creditable way in the earlier chapters of this
story.
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