Jake departed, and then came the hatter, the livery stable keeper, the jeweler, the man who had furnished the young spendthrift with the fine shirts and neck-ties he wore, and lastly, the proprietor of the billiard saloon—all of whom presented bills which greatly exceeded Guy’s calculations. They all appeared to be satisfied with their debtor’s promise to pay up at once. But some of them left him with the assurance that if money were not speedily forthcoming, they would place their accounts before Mr. Walker.
Guy was utterly confounded. He could not imagine what had caused all his creditors to become so pressing in their demands. Like one in a dream he went through his business with the book-keeper, and when it was completed, hurried away to find his friend and counselor, Mr. Jones.
In the back part of the store was a small apartment which was used as a wash-room, and to which light was admitted through a single pane of glass set in the door. In this room Guy found Mr. Jones, busy performing his ablutions. He had retreated there immediately on the entrance of Mrs. Willis, and through the pane of glass before mentioned had watched all that went on in the store. He could not hear what was said, but he knew by the impatient gestures of some of the creditors and the despairing expression that frequently overspread Guy’s face, that some bitter things had been said and some alarming threats made.
“Great Scott!” whispered Guy as he entered and closed the door behind him. “What does this mean, Jones? The whole city of St. Louis has been here with bills against me.”
“It means, dear fellow, that these people want their rights,” returned the commercial traveler in a tone of voice which led Guy to believe that his friend deeply sympathized with him in his troubles.
“But do they imagine that I am made of money—that I can raise almost nine months’ wages at a moment’s warning?” cried Guy, whose distress was painful to behold. “I owe two hundred and seventy-five dollars. Jones, I am ruined!”
“It certainly looks that way,” was the thought that passed through the mind of the commercial traveler, but he looked down at the floor and said nothing.
“If you have the least friendship for me suggest something,” continued Guy in a trembling voice—“something—anything—no matter what it is if it will only put two hundred and seventy-five dollars in my pocket. I must have it, for these men have almost all threatened to call upon Mr. Walker if I don’t settle up at once. If he should hear how I have been going on he would discharge me.”
“Yes, I believe he would,” answered Mr. Jones, twirling his mustache and gazing through the window into the store. “It would doubtless make him angry, for merchants, you know, are very particular in regard to the habits of their clerks. It is a hard case, Guy—a desperate case; and I confess that it is one I cannot manage, although I am fruitful in expedients. I have thought the matter over since I have been in here, but have hit upon no honest plan to get you out of your difficulties. It is true,” added Mr. Jones, speaking as if he were communing with himself, “you handle considerable of the firm’s money, and might borrow two or three hundred of it just to shut up the mouths of these impatient creditors.”
“Oh, no,” exclaimed Guy quickly; “I can’t do that.”