I lost all interest in pocket knives then and there and got out of the store right speedily. I was feeling savage, and made straight for Billwock's. He had made a raise of $40 for me, saying, with several German-American oaths, that was all he could do, and when I talked of selling him something he looked as if he would throw me out of the window. I called twice at Jewell's before I caught father and son there together, and then I had a difficult task before me. The father was inclined to give me the preference, the son favored Blissam, but they had not yet ordered, and were needing some goods, and I felt as if I could never forgive myself if I were to fail then and there. They tackled me first on Flobert rifles; I quoted them at exactly 10 per cent, above cost to import, but they declared I was too high. I felt sure Blissam's house bought no lower than we did, and that he could not sell on less margin than that, so I stood up to the price. Then we took up bull-dogs; I named $2.80, and they shook their heads at that; so they did at price of Champion guns, till I began to feel that my case was hopeless. “I am afraid we can't give you an order to-day,” said the son. “I have quoted you my best prices,” I said, “and am disappointed.” They talked together a few moments and finally said, “You may send us a case of Champion guns,” and this was followed by other items. I could see that they were dividing the order between Blissam and me, and I felt grateful for even this, and tried to make this evident. I succeeded in getting several items that paid a good profit, and I went to my hotel feeling that I had done pretty well. At the desk I was handed a note from Whipper, saying: If you cannot make the Quickenbush rifles $4.60 please omit them. There was but $3 profit in the item, and I would have omitted them but for a desire that Blissam should not get ahead of me; so I started for the store to learn something about it. On the way I met Blissam, and I put it right at him. “Are you quoting Quickenbush rifles at $4.60?” “Not by a drum sight! Who says so?” I handed him Whipper's note. “Are you going there?” he asked. I said I was. “I'll go with you.” This suited me. We saw no look of surprise on Whipper's face. I went straight to the point. “I can't sell the rifles at $4.60, Mr. Whipper, unless I know some one else has quoted that price; if they have, I'll meet it.” “Just scratch them off,” said he, as calm as a day in June. “But has any one given you such a figure?” “Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies. If I can get them at $4.60 I will take them.” I could get nothing more out of him and we started back. On the way we met Tom, Whipper's book-keeper. I asked him what it meant. “Oh,” said he, laughing, “I guess the old man thinks he can get them at $4.60, but we have so many on hand, perhaps it's only his way of canceling the item.” And that was all I ever got from them about it. CHAPTER VII.