"Guess you believe me now, don't you, Mr. Black?"
I nodded. That's all I could do.
He shrugged his shoulders and said:
"Well, two weeks' money don't hurt me very much. I hope, Boss, he hasn't stung you."
I went cold at the thought of it. I didn't think it could be true, but, when I came to think it over, I realized that I had taken his word for almost everything.
I went home and told mother and Betty about it, and they advised me to get in touch with Mr. Barlow at once. I said I wouldn't do that—I wasn't going to leave a man and then two or three days afterwards run to him for help. I thought of Fellows of the Flaxon Advertising Company. I telephoned his house and, fortunately, caught him, and he came right around to see me.
He asked me if I had had a lawyer draw up the agreement. I told him "no." He asked me if I had had an inventory made before buying the store. I told him "no." He asked me if I had verified the profits of the business for the last two years. I told him "no." He asked me if I had had the books audited at all. I told him "no."
"Good God, lad," he said, "what have you done, anyhow?"
And then I acted like a fool. I burst out crying and told him that what I had done had been to make an ass of myself and to give Jim Simpson $6500.00.
He thought a minute and said: