“Look here,” says Mark, “this is my office. If you c-c-come in here like you ought to, actin’ d-decent, you’ll be treated the same. If you’ve got any b-business with me, act like a b-business man. If you can’t act that way—git out. There’s the d-door. I guess whatever b-business there is to do can be done with your boss.”
The man sort of eased off a trifle and acted a little more like he was a regular human being instead of a bear with a toothache.
“I was sent here to collect that bill,” says he.
“All right,” says Mark. “Now what about that bill? I don’t know anythin’ about it. So f-f-far as I know I don’t owe any bill. What m-makes you think I do?”
“It’s for paper,” says the man. “Paper sold to the Wicksville Trumpet more ’n three months ago, and it hain’t never been paid for. The boss he told me either to git the money or to shut up your shop for you. So which’ll it be?”
“N-neither for a minute,” says Mark. “Here you come rushin’ in here with a b-b-bill for eighty-seven dollars that I hain’t ever heard of. Before anythin’ else happens I want to know a l-little more about it.”
“There hain’t any more to know. You’ve had the paper, and we hain’t ever had the money.”
“But we don’t owe it,” says Tallow. “We just bought this paper a few days ago.”
“Well,” says the man, “you bought its bills with it, didn’t you?”
“Not if we could h-help it,” says Mark. “Now, mister, you come with me. We’ll f-f-find out.”