“Well, you still have five dollars left. Hand that over and I will give you credit for it.”
“But I haven’t got it. I paid that out, too.”
Sam whistled softly to himself and drummed with his fingers on the counter for a moment; then he drew a sheet of white wrapping-paper toward him and pulled a pencil from his pocket. The pencil moved rapidly over the paper for a few seconds, and after Sam had read what he had written, he crossed over to Gus’s side of the store and laid before him the following:—
| “$12.00. | Foxboro’, Jan. 29th 18— |
| Robbins & Co. |
Please pay Samuel Holmes Twelve Dollars out of my next month’s wages, and charge the same to my account.”
“There, Gus,” said he, “sign that, and I shall begin to believe that I stand a chance of getting the money I lent you to help you out of a tight place.”
“Twelve dollars!” exclaimed Gus. “I borrowed only ten.”
“But I don’t lend money for nothing,” replied Sam, “and besides I must have something to pay me for waiting so long, and for the trouble I have had in collecting it.”
Gus took a minute to think about it, then seized the pencil and wrote his name at the bottom of the order. Sam thrust it into his pocket and putting on his hat left the store.
“I don’t run any risk by that,” said Gus to himself. “Sam will not present the order before the 1st of March, and by that time, if things work as I hope they will, I shall be a good many miles from here. What miserable luck some fellows do have in this world, anyhow. I thought I should have no trouble in getting the money on that check to-day. Where has Sam gone, I wonder?”