“You told me you blacked his boots every morning,” persisted Joshua.
“Look here, mister, haven’t you got hold of the wrong boy?”
Joshua was rather taken aback by this question, but, looking closely at the boy before him, he was convinced that he was right.
“No, I have not,” he said; “I paid you seventy-five cents for showing me the way to the store where Sam Crawford worked.”
“How could I show you when I never heard of Sam Crawford?”
“You said you knew him.”
“I guess you’re crazy, mister.”
“You’ve cheated me,” said Joshua, getting provoked. “Just give me back that seventy-five cents I paid you.”
“Do you see any green in my eye, mister?” inquired the bootblack.
“What makes you ask that?”