"We quite expected you would, Mr. Purkes. We are not going to sell tea after we have cleaned out this one lot, however." "But by the time you've sold out that one lot you will have established such a ridiculous price that I probably will have to cut my price to satisfy the people. Why, the stuff costs you more than you sell it for." "Guess we're satisfied with what we are making out of tea, Charlie, aren't we?" "Yes," he answered, "but I think we are going to do even better on the Cross Tree jams." These jams were the most advertised in the country, and Purkes was the local agent for them. The little chap let off a scream. "I'll stop you getting them!" he cried. "I'll sue you!--I'll--!" He stopped abruptly and asked, "Where did you get them?" "From the plumber's!" said Charlie, "Where did you think?" "But you can't get them--I've the sole agency." "In that case," I returned, "you've nothing to worry about, have you?" The outcome of it was, however, that Purkes promised to take his enamelware off sale at once and get the manufacturers to take it back--even at a loss---or, failing that, to sell his stock to some store outside of Farmdale. We in return were to sell him our tea at forty cents a pound. The little chap kicked at this, but he agreed. Having got the matter fixed up, he said, "There now, that's settled, thank goodness. It isn't nice to have disputes among friends, is it? I'll send my man up for that tea this afternoon, so that you won't be bothered to send it down," and he peered over his spectacles and smiled benignly. "We will let you have the tea as soon as your enamelware has left town. Until then we will keep it here, in case we need it," I replied. "What, don't you trust me?" he exclaimed. Here I forgot myself, for I turned round sharply and said: "I do _not_! I'm almost sorry that you agreed to get rid of that enamelware, for, by heaven, there's a good profit in groceries, and it wouldn't take me more than two minutes to get into that line myself!" Old Purkes went white to the gills and assured me hastily that he would get the enamelware out of town as quickly as possible. I felt so stuck on myself when he left the store that I wanted to stand on the counter and crow. "You threw a good bluff," said Charlie, after Purkes had left. "What do you mean--bluff?" said I, surprised. "No bluff there. I meant every word of it!" "Even to starting a grocery business?" "Aw, that," I said sheepishly. "It was a bit foolish because, while business is booming with us, I find that every little bit of extra profit I make has to go into stock. So, as regards actual cash, I am no better off than I was six months ago. However, bluff or no bluff, I really think we've killed the grocer's competition."