Running swiftly across the street he threw his many packages on the counter with the air of a proprietor, just in time to see Ikey pass the gentleman ten cents in change.
"What did he give you?" Carrots asked, excitedly.
"A quarter."
"What—a quarter?" the young merchant exclaimed in surprise. "Do you mean to tell me he bought fifteen cents' worth all at one time?"
"Course I do," Ikey replied, as if he was accustomed to making such large sales. "Why, I had one man who got twenty cents' worth, an' he asked me if the stand was goin' to be kept open right along now."
"Did you tell him who owned it?"
"Of course; an' he said he'd buy his papers here all the time."
"Well, I'm a Dutchman if I thought business was so big with a stand! I can't see what made the other feller give it up. How much money did you take in altogether?"
"Let's see," and Ikey knit his brow as he called upon his memory to aid him in the account. "There was two dollars 'n' forty-two cents, an' now I've got fifteen more; that makes—forty-two an' ten is fifty-two, an' five is fifty-seven—two dollars 'n' fifty-seven cents."
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" and Carrots found it necessary to enter the stand for the purpose of seeing and handling the money before he could be convinced his clerk had told him no more than the truth.