“He is one of our best customers,” replied the clerk. “His name is Dr. Lemuel Spidderkins.”
“Does he practise medicine?”
“He used to, but he is retired now, and about all he does is to collect books. Hardly a day passes but what he buys two or three here, or in other book stores. He spends a lot of money that way. You see he’s so forgetful he dare not risk practising his profession.”
“He certainly is queer,” remarked Tom, and he told the clerk his experience with the doctor.
“That’s nothing,” was the answer. “He often comes in here, and walks off with three or four books without paying for them. If we see him we always politely call his attention to them. If we don’t, it doesn’t matter, for he generally recollects what he has done when he reaches home, and he sends the money for them. Yes, he is very eccentric.”
“Then I did the right thing,” said Tom, “when I offered to wrap them up for him.”
“Oh, yes. He and Mr. Townsend are great friends. He has bought books of us for years.”
“Here—er—new boy—what’s your name!” suddenly called the book store proprietor, from where he stood talking to Dr. Spidderkins. “Wrap these books up.”
Tom hurried to his employer, and took several large and heavy volumes which the old physician had evidently selected from the shelves.
“Ah, there is the young man who helped me look up some facts about—er—well now, isn’t that queer, I can’t remember what it was about,” said the doctor, as he caught sight of Tom. “Was it about how the Egyptians used to worship cats?”