“I guess not to-day,” answered Joshua.
“I suppose you know that your boots are out of style,” said the other, surveying Joshua’s boots contemptuously.
“I won’t buy any to-day,” said Joshua, to whom it occurred that when he found Sam the latter would sell to him cheaper on the score of acquaintance.
“Take a card,” said the salesman, “and give us a call when you need a pair.”
Joshua took the card and put it in his pocket. As he left the store he looked about for the boy who had deceived him. The latter would probably have been invisible, but a gentleman had hailed him, and he was now engaged in polishing his second boot. Joshua waited till he was through, and then commenced the attack.
“Look here,” said he, “you said Sam Crawford worked in that store.”
The bootblack, who had not contemplated another meeting with the customer he had deceived, decided to brazen it out, and deny all knowledge of the affair.
“Who’s Sam Crawford?” he asked, vacantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You told me Sam Crawford worked in that store.”
“Did I? I don’t know any Sam Crawford.”