“Tage it!” roared Moss, waving his cane in impotent rage, and turned away disgusted.
“Of course you gif me four per cent. discount for cash?” demanded the successful bidder.
“Of course I shall not,” dissented Frank. “Shall I call back Mr. Moss? No? Thanks,—that is correct, twenty dollars and fifty cents. Here is a receipt.”
Frank felt that he had closed an exceptionally good sale. Within half-an-hour the wagons were started on their way for Greenville.
[CHAPTER VIII]
A STEP FORWARD
The return trip took three hours. It was just five o’clock when the wagons drew up in front of the store front building on Cedar Street, in Greenville.
A man whom Mr. Buckner had hired was sweeping out the place. With his aid and that of another helper, the big packing cases were stowed in the main floor room as Frank wanted them.
Frank had just paid off the two outsiders, when the man he had leased the wagons from drove up in a light vehicle. He was all smiles. He looked over the horses and turned to Frank.