“What do you do when you go away, as you did to-day?”
“I lock the place up, and leave a slate out for orders. Trade is not as brisk as it used to be.”
“You mean as it was before Benning and Jack Peterson started in the business?”
“That’s it. The town can’t support three flour and feed stores.”
“Won’t your old customers stick by you?”
“A few of them do; but both Benning and Peterson are doing their best to get the trade away from me. They offer all sorts of inducements, and sometimes sell at less than the goods cost, just to get a customer.”
“Nobody in business can afford to do that very long.”
“They want to drive me out, and each wants to drive out the other. Then the one who is left will make prices to suit himself;” and here Mr. Hardy had to stop talking, for he felt very much exhausted.
In the meantime Frank had been sent down to the drug store for several articles which the doctor had said were needed for the injured man. While he was waiting for the articles a burly and rather pleasant-faced man came in and purchased a handful of cigars.
“Is there an optician in town?” questioned the man of the druggist. “I was in that wreck, and somehow I lost my glasses, and I want to get another pair.”