"Seventy-five cents!" repeated Sam, thoughtfully.
This would only leave him twenty-five cents, and there were so many other things he wanted.
"Was you calc'latin' to buy, Sam?" asked Mr. Locke, pushing up his iron-bound spectacles.
"I don't know," said Sam, slowly; "I didn't think I'd have to pay so much."
"It's cheap, for the quality," said the store keeper. "This ain't no common fishing-pole. It comes all the way from York."
"Yes, it seems a nice one," Sam admitted.
"Hev you got the money about you?" asked the old man.
"Yes," answered Sam, unguardedly.
"Then you'd better take the pole. You won't find no better within fifty mile."
"I'll think about it," said Sam.