But this, of course, was not to be expected. It is not every customer who can be persuaded to buy half-a-dozen ties, even by the most eloquent salesman. However, in the course of an hour more, Paul had sold three more to single customers. Then came a man who bought two. Then there was a lull, and for an hour Paul sold none at all. But business improved a little toward the close of the afternoon, and when it was time to close up, our young merchant found that he had disposed of fifteen.
“My share of the profits will be ninety-three cents,” thought Paul, with satisfaction. “That isn't bad for an afternoon's work.”
CHAPTER VIII
A STROKE OF ILL LUCK
Paul transferred his frame of goods to a neighboring office at the end of the afternoon, the arrangement having been made by George Barry, on first entering into business as a street merchant. This saved a good deal of trouble, as otherwise he would have been compelled to carry them home every night and bring them back in the morning.
“Well, Paul,” asked his mother, when he returned to supper, “have you found anything to do yet?”
“I have got employment for a few days,” said Paul, “to tend a necktie stand. The man that keeps it is sick.”
“How much does he pay you, Paul?” asked Jimmy.
“Half the profits. How much do you think I have made this afternoon?”