“Then I’ll present it to you. I’ve got a lot of money.”
“I think,” said Mrs. Craig, “it would be nice if Nellie and I bought those things for you, dear. How much would they cost, do you think?”
Sam demurred, but in the end they had their way, and the next morning Sam set out to Cummings and Wright’s with his precious telegram in hand and laid the matter before Tom Pollock.
“So you got it!” exclaimed Tom. “Gee, but I’m awfully glad, Sam! Shake! Now let’s see what you need. What shade of blue do you suppose that means? Dark, I guess. Here you are, then. Eighty-five cents each. You’ll need two of them. Sneakers are ninety-five and a dollar and a quarter. Better pay the difference, Sam. The cheaper ones aren’t much. What about flannel trousers? I’m afraid—Oh, you’ve got a pair? All right. Then that leaves only the sweater. What colour?”
“It doesn’t say. What do you think?”
“Guess it doesn’t matter, Sam. Grey’s usually the best because it won’t fade and doesn’t show dirt, but you can have blue or red or white or——”
“Grey, I guess; and not very expensive.”
“Here’s one for two and a half and here’s a better one for three and here’s——”
“I guess this three-dollar one will do, Tom. Do I get anything off on this truck?”