CHAPTER VII
A NEW BUSINESS
The proprietor of the necktie stand was a slender, dark-complexioned young man of about twenty-five, or thereabouts.
His name was George Barry. Paul had known him for over a year, and whenever he passed his stand was accustomed to stop and speak with him.
“Well, George, how's business?” asked Paul.
“Fair,” said Barry. “That isn't what's the matter.”
“What is it, then?”
“I'm sick. I ought not to be out here to-day.”
“What's the matter with you?”
“I've caught a bad cold, and feel hot and feverish. I ought to be at home and abed.”