“No, I don’t; but, Mr. Tripp, mother and I find it very hard to get along, really we do. She won’t have any more shoes to bind for three months to come, on account of the shoe shop’s closing.”
“It’s going to hurt me, too,” said Silas, with a frown. “When one business suspends it affects all the rest. I’ll have mighty hard work to make both ends meet.”
This struck Chester as ludicrous, but he did not feel inclined to laugh. Here was Silas Tripp gathering in trade from the entire village and getting not a little in addition from outlying towns, complaining that he would find it hard to make both ends meet, though everyone said that he did not spend one-third of his income. On the whole, things did not look very encouraging.
“Perhaps,” he said, nervously, “you would raise me to three dollars and a half?”
“What is the boy thinkin’ of? You must think I’m made of money. Why, three dollars is han’some pay for what little you do.”
“Why, I work fourteen hours a day,” retorted Chester.
“I’m afraid you’re gettin’ lazy. Boys shouldn’t complain of their work. The fact is, Chester, I feel as if I was payin’ you too much.”
“Too much! Three dollars a week too much!”
“Too much, considerin’ the state of business, and yourself bein’ a boy. I’ve been meanin’ to tell you that I’ve got a chance to get a cheaper boy.”
“Who is it?” asked Chester, in dismay.