The argument was a clincher, and put all the good lady’s scruples to rout. She did not need the money, and neither did she want to dun Guy; but if by that means she could keep him from spending his hard earnings foolishly, it was her duty to do it. So she promised to follow Mr. Jones’ advice, and the latter, after begging her not to say a word to Guy concerning what had just passed between them, leisurely pulled on his gloves and left the house.
“There’s one hound I have put on your track, Mr. Harris,” muttered the commercial traveler when he had gained the street. “If I could only raise a suspicion in her mind that her money is in danger, wouldn’t she make things lively though? For good, fine, ornamental dunning, commend me to a mad landlady, who can do more of it in five minutes than any ten men can do in half an hour. I know, for I have had experience with them.”
With this reflection Mr. Jones pulled his coat collar up around his ears, for the evening air was chilly, and hurrying down Fourth Street turned into the door of a fashionable tailoring establishment. Meeting the proprietor as he entered he exclaimed:
“Now, Mr. Warren, I am quite sure that you were on the point of starting for my boarding-house to dun me for that bill I owe you. I am really ashamed of myself—but here’s the——”
“Halloo! what’s the matter with you, Jones?” interrupted the tailor. “Your bill is a mere trifle, not more than ten or fifteen dollars, and if I had wanted the money I should not have failed to let you know it. But, Jones, I intend to make you a present of that and more, too. You have recommended our house extensively during your travels, and in that way have helped us many a dollar. If you will step into the back part of the store we’ll take your measure and put you up a fine business suit.”
“You are very kind,” said Mr. Jones gratefully. “I accept your offer with thanks. I should like a new business suit, one something like that you made for Harris a few weeks ago. By the way, if it is a fair question, what did he pay you for it?”
“Not one dime,” said the merchant with a laugh.
“How? I don’t understand you.”
“I mean that we have never seen a cent of his money since he began trading with us.”
“Is it possible?” exclaimed Mr. Jones. “I declare I never saw that fellow’s equal for putting off things. Send your bill down to the store to-morrow evening at six o’clock, and give him a first-class overhauling.”