“But I earned the money for you and father, mother,” he answered.
He insisted upon giving his mother the money, and she put it away, to be used as occasion required.
The next morning Frank was busy sending out orders for books, and writing Mr. Vincent a letter concerning some old books he had purchased. When he went downtown to post the letters he stopped at a grocery store for some coffee and sugar.
“They tell me you are trying to sell books, Frank,” said the shopkeeper, as he weighed out the coffee.
“Yes, Mr. Glasby.”
“That’s rather a poor business to be in, ain’t it?” And Mr. Glasby eyed Frank sharply through his spectacles.
“I don’t think so.”
“You’d do better to stay home and help your folks, or get a steady job in Claster.”
“What do you think a steady job would pay me?” asked Frank.
“Oh, maybe four or five dollars a week. And even if it was only three it might help your mother a good bit.”