“I agree with you,” said Philip. “I wish I were able to pay them, but I have only six dollars in my possession.”
“That will pay me, and leave a dollar over,” suggested the agent.
“If it comes to that,” said the printer, “I claim that I ought to be paid first.”
“I am a poor man,” said the bill-sticker. “I need my money.”
Poor Philip was very much disconcerted. It was a new thing for him to owe money which he could not repay.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I have myself been cheated out of fifty dollars, at least—my share of the profits. I wish I could pay you all. I cannot do so now. Whenever I can I will certainly do it.”
“You can pay us a part with the money you have,” said the agent.
“I owe Mr. Gates for nearly two days’ board,” he said. “That is my own affair, and I must pay him first.”
“I don’t see why he should be preferred to me,” grumbled the agent; then, with a sudden, happy thought, as he termed it, he said: “I will tell you how you can pay us all.”
“How?” asked Philip.