“Yes, it is a fine evening, Mr. Flecker,” answered the landlady.
“Never saw a finer day in my life. I hope you haven’t kept the table waiting for me?”
“Yes, all of the others have finished eating.”
“Too bad! Really, I’ll have to be more prompt in the future.”
“Oh, I don’t mind a little delay.”
“It isn’t fair on such a hard-working woman as yourself, Mrs. Larkspur. But, to tell the truth, I could not help it. I had to close up a land deal this afternoon, or else lose a commission amounting to three hundred and twenty-five dollars.” Gabe Flecker now pretended to be a real-estate agent, although he had never handled a foot of land in his life.
Mrs. Larkspur was impressed, and as Gabe Flecker seemed to be tired out she resolved to let the matter of his board bill rest until morning.
“I mustn’t let him know I am too anxious for my money,” she reasoned. “If I do that, he may go elsewhere. Perhaps he’ll pay up of his own accord when he gets that commission he mentioned.”
Bright and early on the following morning Frank went to Goshen to see if he could take orders for any books in that thriving town. He visited several stores and then came to the corner upon which Mrs. Larkspur’s boarding house was located.
“Perhaps I can sell a set of famous novels in there,” he thought, and ascending the stone steps, rang the bell.