DAWSON BLACK
RETAIL MERCHANT
CHAPTER I
AN UNEXPECTED INHERITANCE
I hadn't seen Aunt Emma for five years, and, candidly, I had never thought a great deal of her; so you can imagine how surprised I was when a long-whiskered chap blew in at the Mater's to-day and told me that Aunt Emma had died, and—had left me eight thousand dollars in cash and a farm in the Berkshires!
Of course my first thought was to hunt up Betty and get her to help me celebrate!
We had a bully good time! Betty was delighted with my good fortune; but scolded me for not being sorry aunty had died. I suppose I should have pretended I was sorry, although, having met her only twice in my life, she was practically a stranger to me.
I told Betty I thought I'd throw up my job with Barlow—he runs the Main Street Hardware Store—and get a store of my own.
We had quite a talk over it. Betty approved of it and said she was sure I would succeed. She reminded me, though, that I was only twenty-two, and said that if I did buy a store I should get some one to advise me about it. She's a fine girl, Betty, but of course she knew nothing about business.
The next morning I put an advertisement in the county paper. Fellows, a chap I know who works at the Flaxon Advertising Company—he's some relation to Betty—said I ought to have used a trade paper, but I told him I didn't want to go far from home, and a trade paper would probably bring me answers from Oshkosh and Kankakee and such funny places, and I would simply be paying out good money to get offers from places I didn't want to go to. Not that I wouldn't like to travel, but Betty would . . . well, never mind what Betty would or wouldn't.—There goes the telephone bell. . . .