“Much good may it do him,” thought Gus, keeping the door open about half an inch so that he could see all that passed in the store. “He is a regular leech, and if I could only settle up with him I’d pay him for his persistency by buying my cigars and fine cut somewhere else.” The visitor held a long interview with Sam—so long that Gus began to be very impatient, and at last to tremble for fear that his father, who was busy with the books in the office, might come out and find him there. Gus could not hear what they said, but he could see, by Mr. Meyers’s emphatic gestures, that he was very much in earnest about something. As soon as the man left the store, Gus drew a long breath of relief and came out of his hiding-place. The smile on his face showed that he was very much pleased with the success of his little stratagem. “O, there’s nothing to grin over, old fellow,” said Sam. “If you know when you are well off you will rake fifteen dollars together pretty lively, I tell you.” “Fifteen dollars!” replied Gus. “I don’t owe him any such sum as that.” “He’s got a bill made out for it, anyhow.” “What did you say to him?” “I told him that you had gone out somewhere on business, and that you would call and pay him to-morrow afternoon.” “To-morrow afternoon!” echoed Gus. “Great Cæsar! How am I going to raise fifteen dollars between this time and that?” “I give it up,” replied Sam. “To-morrow afternoon!” gasped Gus, as visions of a stormy interview with the impatient and angry cigar vendor flitted through his mind. “Yes; I tried to put him off, but he wouldn’t be put off, so I had to tell him something definite.” “You had no business to tell him that, at any rate,” snapped Gus. “You know I couldn’t keep that promise.” “Well, the next time you want any lies told you can just stay in the store and tell them yourself,” retorted Sam. “I shall not do it any more, and you needn’t waste your time and breath in asking me. I have stood between you and your creditors just as long as I am going to; but I’ll tell you one thing: You had better settle with that Jew, or he will go to your father with his bill. Then won’t you be in a fix?” “Whew!” exclaimed Gus, who was not a little alarmed. “But remember that my claim is to be settled first,” continued Sam. “You have owed me money longer than you have owed him, and I want you to begin to pony up. I am tired of waiting.” “You will have plenty of time to get rested again before you get the money, and so will that Jew,” thought Gus, as he turned and walked back to his own counter. “Is it any wonder that I want to get away from here?” No, it was no wonder that Gus was always in trouble, but he had no one to thank for it but himself. He had a comfortable home, a kind father and mother, and there was more than one boy in the city who would have been glad to change places with him. The great trouble with Gus was, that he would not work if he could help it, and he had no idea of the value of money.