"I think you're going to make a real big man yet, Dawson," he said. "Is Stigler still hurting you with his mark-down prices?"
"Yes, he is," I confessed. "But I think I've got a plan that's going to put it all over him."
"What's that?"
"I'm going to start using trading stamps."
"What-at!" he said, in a surprised tone.
"Yes," I continued. "The man was to have come last Thursday; but he had to leave town Wednesday night, and he wired me that he was coming up to-morrow, and I'm going to take them up."
Barlow stopped short in the street, swung me around until I was facing him, and said in a stern tone:
"Young man, do you know what a fool thing you are trying to do?"
"Fool thing nothing!" I returned. "And I don't see how you are able to judge that." I rather felt that he was butting in where he had no concern.
"You're right," he said, "it's no concern of mine at all. But for heaven's sake, lad, think twice before you tangle yourself up with anything like that."