“No. And I want less noise and commotion. If you wish to stay in my employment you must learn to curb yourself a little. Let us have no more such performances.”
“You suit me fu’st-rate so fur. Got no notion of dischargin’ you yet,” said Will. “But what’s to be done? I can’t hold in. It’s out of the question. There’d be something bu’st sure.”
“Well,” said Mr. Leonard, turning on his heel to hide a broad smile. “I must give you some out-door work—send you on errands. Can I trust you to do them correctly?”
“I dunno. Won’t make no promises. You can try me. That’s the way to find out. I know everything and everybody out of doors; that’s something.”
“Very well; I will try you.”
Thenceforth Will varied his store duties with out-door avocations, his quick and intelligent performance of which gave much satisfaction.
CHAPTER III.
MR. LEONARD’S VISITOR.
It was two or three days after the last-narrated events that a slender, keen-eyed person stopped in front of Mr. Leonard’s store. He was dressed in grayish clothes, and wore a wide-rimmed hat.
He glanced up at the lofty iron front, reaching five stories high, and then briskly entered the store, threading his way back between the open cases of goods which covered the long floor to the counting-house.