“Raymond,” said Mr. Fairchild, “make out a bill against Mr. Miller, Thomas Miller, of seventeen thousand five hundred dollars for the cargo of silks, at present on the ship Argo. You will find pen and paper on the desk.”
Harry stepped to the desk, and with some tribulation made out the bill, as he would have done for a supply of groceries. He feared that it would not answer; but on handing it to Mr. Fairchild that gentleman made no criticism. He just glanced at it, and handed it to Mr. Miller.
“Very well, I’ll send round a check for the amount in the morning.”
“All right.”
“Good-morning. I am in a hurry;” and the silk purchaser went out.
“What do you think of that specimen of doing business, Raymond?” asked Mr. Fairchild, complacently.
“It didn’t take long.”
“No, that’s the city style. And it pays too. Just calculate the commission on that sale at two per cent.”
“Three hundred and fifty dollars,” said our hero, promptly.
“I dare say you are not used to such transactions in the country.”