Joe Potter was as thin as his friend was stout, and, ordinarily, as active as Plums was indolent. His listless bearing now served to arouse Master Plummer's curiosity as nothing else could have done.
"Business been good down your way?" he finally asked.
"It's mighty bad. I got stuck on a bunch of bananas, and lost thirty-two cents last week. Then oranges went down till you couldn't hardly see 'em, an' I bought a box when they was worth two dollars. It seems like as if every Italian in the city, what ain't blackin' boots, has started a fruit-stand, an' it's jest knocked the eye out of business."
"I shouldn't think you could afford to lay 'round up here if it is as bad as all that."
"It don't make any difference where I am now, 'cause I've busted; Plums, I've busted. Failed up yesterday, an' have got jest sixteen cents to my name."
"Busted!" Master Plummer exclaimed. "Why, you told me you had more'n seven dollars when you started that fruit-stand down on West Street."
"Seven dollars an' eighty-three cents was the figger, Plums, an' here's what's left of it."
Joe took from his pocket a handful of pennies, counting them slowly to assure himself he had made no mistake in the sum total.
Master Plummer was so overwhelmed by the sad tidings, that two intending purchasers passed him by after waiting several seconds to be served, and Joe reminded him of his inattention to business by saying, sharply:
"Look here, Plums, you mustn't shut down on business jest 'cause I've busted. Why don't you sell papers when you get the chance?"