"Only until this lot is sold out."
"I'll tell you what," said Purkes, brightening up, "I'll buy your tea of you and you buy my enamelware."
"We don't sell seconds in enamelware, Mr. Purkes, so your enamelware is useless to us."
"Very well, I will continue to sell enamelware."
"We quite expected you would, Mr. Purkes. We are not going to sell tea after we have cleaned out this one lot, however."
"But by the time you've sold out that one lot you will have established such a ridiculous price that I probably will have to cut my price to satisfy the people. Why, the stuff costs you more than you sell it for."
"Guess we're satisfied with what we are making out of tea, Charlie, aren't we?"
"Yes," he answered, "but I think we are going to do even better on the Cross Tree jams."
These jams were the most advertised in the country, and Purkes was the local agent for them.
The little chap let off a scream. "I'll stop you getting them!" he cried. "I'll sue you!—I'll—!" He stopped abruptly and asked, "Where did you get them?"