“I’ll let you have the lot for a dollar.”
“They would not be worth twenty-five cents to me, madam.”
“Oh, you book agents want to make all you can,” she sniffed, and shut the door in his face.
“What a family to deal with,” thought Frank, as he rode away. “I declare, I’m almost glad I didn’t sell her a book.”
Close at hand was a small side road where were located two other farmhouses. To these places, our hero next made his way. One place was closed up, but at the other he met a young couple who treated him cordially.
“I’d like to have both of those books,” said the young husband, referring to the health and the cattle and poultry works. “But to tell the truth I can’t afford them. Just now, six dollars is a heap of money to me.”
“I can deliver the books whenever you say,” returned Frank. “Perhaps you’ll be able to take them next week.”
“No; I don’t want to give an order for them unless I am sure I can pay. ‘Pay as you go’ is my motto.”
“And a good motto it is,” said Frank. Then he continued: “Perhaps you have some old books you’d like to exchange for these new ones.”
“I’ve got a box full of old books that were left to my wife by her Uncle Alexander. Millie, do you want to make a trade?”