“Yes, that clerk of yours came in here about three o’clock today with
seven boxes of cigars and some cigarettes and smoking tobacco. Said
you were overstocked and wanted to return them. We paid him cash for
them. We were going to credit them, but he said you wanted the money.
Anything wrong?”
“How much did you pay him?” asked Joe.
“Forty-six dollars and something; I’ll give you the exact amount if
you’ll wait a minute.”
“Thanks, that’s near enough,” replied Joe. “I’ll be around to see you
Monday. Good-night.”
“Forty-six from them,” reckoned Joe, “about twenty-five from today’s
sales and, unless I’m mistaken, a knock-down yesterday of perhaps five
more. About seventy-five dollars altogether. That’s going to make an
awful dent in this month’s profits if we don’t get it back! But,” he
added grimly to himself as he locked up for the night and turned the
light out, “I think we will!”
CHAPTER XIX
JOE ACCEPTS A LOAN
The notion of calling up Jack and acquainting him with what had
happened came to him, but was dismissed after a moment’s reflection.
Jack was ill and the news would only worry and excite him. Instead, as
he hurried up Main Street, Joe decided to call up Aunt Sarah and excuse
himself from supper on a plea of business. Aunt Sarah wouldn’t like it,
for she still viewed the news-stand with suspicion. But perhaps Aunt
Sarah detected the anxiety in Joe’s voice when he telephoned, for she
asked no questions and was really quite pleasant, only informing him a
trifle wistfully that there was beefstew this evening and that Amanda
was making some of her delectable dumplings!
After that hurried talk over the wire Joe turned into Aspen Street,
walked three blocks west and finally rang the bell at the door of a
rather down-at-heels brick house that stood by itself almost in the
shadow of the frowning carpet mills. When a dejected and at the
same time suspicious-looking middle-aged woman answered the bell Joe
inquired if she were Mrs. Young.
“There’s no Mrs. Young lives around here,” was the reply. “My name’s
Bennett.”
“Does Chester Young live here, ma’am?”
“Are you a friend of his?” was the quick demand.
“My name is Faulkner, Mrs. Bennett. He worked for me in the Adams
Building.”
“He did, eh? Then maybe you’ll be payin’ me two weeks’ board he’s
owin’. Did he send you with the money?”
“No, I haven’t seen him since noon. That’s why I came over here. I
thought perhaps I’d find him.”
“Well, you won’t, then. He’s skipped!”
“Skipped?” exclaimed Joe. “Gone for good, you mean?”
“He’s gone owin’ me two weeks’ board, which is nine dollars, and fifty
cents he borrowed off me the day he came here. He was always promisin’
to pay it, but he never done it, and him bein’ out of work I didn’t
press him at first and then afterwards he kept sayin’ he’d pay me every
day. I’m a poor, hard-workin’ woman, and I need the money. Maybe
you’re after owin’ him wages, now?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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