"And how can I learn the business without trade?" He closed Graham's unwilling fingers over the money and skipped away.
Sighing, Graham gave over the unequal argument. "Well, if you're satisfied, my boy.... But I'll have to write to Elmiry for it."
"Telegraph."
"Telegraph!" Graham laughed. "That'd kill Lew Parker, I guess."
"Who's he?"
"Telegraph operator and ticket agent."
"Well, he won't be missed much. Telegraph and tell 'em to send the goods C.O.D. Please, Mr. Graham. We want to get things moving here, you know; we've got to build up the business. We'll put out some signs and ... and ... well, we'll get the people in the habit of coming here somehow. You'll see!"
He raked the poverty-stricken shelves with a calculating eye, all his energy fired by enthusiasm at the prospect of doing something. Graham watched him with kindling liking and admiration. His old lips quivered a little before he voiced his thought.
"You—you know, my boy, you've got splendid business ability," he asserted with whole-souled conviction.
Duncan almost reeled. "What?" he cried.