“This gentleman is Nahum Snodgrass, of Chicago, who has been for some years a traveler for a large wholesale-drug-house.”
“I am glad to meet you, Mr. Snodgrass,” said Walter, politely.
Snodgrass, who was a thin, dry-looking man, nodded briefly.
“I have just sold out my business to him,” went on Professor Robinson, “and henceforth shall aim to live more easily and enjoy the presence of my family.”
“I congratulate you, professor,” said Walter. “I think you deserve a life of leisure.”
“Mr. Snodgrass is willing to take you into his employ, but he does not think he can afford to pay you as much as I did.”
“No,” said Snodgrass, clearing his throat, “I find that Professor Robinson has been foolishly liberal. The ten per cent. commission which he has paid you is simply—stu—pendous!”
Walter smiled.
“I have not been in the habit of taking that view of it,” he said.
“Perhaps not, but I do,” said Snodgrass, firmly. “You are a very young man, and ought not to expect much pay. I will give you two dollars a week and pay your traveling expenses.”