"A dollar and nineteen cents!" announced Billy.
"Oh, I couldn't let you have these dishes, for that," said the old man, and he seemed about to take them from the counter where they had been put, to place them back in the window.
"Wait a minute," said Billy. "These dishes are worth only a dollar, but I have fifteen cents I can lend you, Bert. That will make a dollar and thirty-four cents. That's all we have and if you don't want to sell the dishes for that, we can go and get 'em somewhere else."
Nan was about to gasp out: "Oh!" but a look from Billy stopped her. She saw what he was trying to do.
"A dollar thirty-four—that's all the moneys you got?" asked the old man.
"Every cent we're going to give!" declared Billy firmly. "If you'll sell the play dishes for that all right. If you won't—"
He seemed about to leave.
"Oh, well, what I cares if I die in the poor-house?" asked the old man. "Here! Take 'em. But I am losing money. Those is valuable dishes. If I had more I could sell 'em for ten dollars maybe. But as they is all I got take 'em for a dollar and thirty-four. You couldn't make it a dollar thirty-five, could you?"
"No," said Bert decidedly, "we couldn't!"
"Oh, dear!" sighed the old man. "Take 'em, then."