And he is also suspicious of any one who begins to talk of the grinding monopoly controlling the market.
Why, it was only the other morning he closed up a sour-looking man so suddenly that I fancy the fellow has not up to this time got over wondering what hit him.
"It's got so now," he began to say, "that the infernal beef trust——"
"You won't find any beef trust at this shop, I'm telling you right now—my terms are strictly cash," was what the cruel purveyor of loins and steaks tossed at him.
And there was my old friend, the grocery man, getting into hot water again when I entered.
He is used to it, being parboiled every day.
When I saw the same young matron who had ordered "condemned milk" and those other astonishing things the other day, I pricked up my ears, under the belief that something rich, rare and racy might happen.
It did.