“Six,” answered Mr. Remington.
“What, six thousand dollars?”
“Certainly. You see we turn our goods over quickly. This isn’t the busy season, but that will soon be here, and then the store will be crowded with customers from morning till night.”
As the entire stock in trade probably did not exceed two, or at most, three thousand dollars in value, this was rather a hard statement to believe; but then Joshua was fresh from the country, and rather unsophisticated.
Mr. Remington gave his new clerk some instructions as to the locality of the goods, and the prices, and he took his place behind the counter, proud of being a city salesman. He was not compelled to work very hard. There was seldom more than one customer in the store at a time, and none bought heavily.
“It’s rather quiet this morning,” said Mr. Remington, laying down the morning paper, over which he had spent an hour without interruption.
Joshua assented.
“You see it isn’t the busy season. That makes a great difference.”
“I suppose it does.”
“You’d hardly know the place two months hence. You must make up your mind to work, then, Drummond. They’ll keep you running, I assure you.”