"All right," she said, and took her leave.
The next day was beautiful; the sun shone brightly, and the air was soft and fragrant. Plum Street, besides being the leading business thoroughfare, is likewise the most imposing resident district, at its extreme end. Large cars, modern and built of steel, thread their way, not only to the city limits, but they penetrate far into the country beyond.
And it was aboard one of these modern conveyances that Sidney Wyeth reclined, observing the size and grandeur of the many magnificent residences, that stood back from either side of the street in sumptuous splendor. Magnolias and an occasional palm adorned the yards, while green grass and winter flowers filled the balmy air with a delightful odor.
He alighted and found himself very soon in the rear of No. 40. Success was his, for he sold to the girl, and three more at the same number, and the next, and the next—and still the next, until darkness came. Thus he came in touch with people who were more able, and positively, more likely to buy.
A few days after this he dropped in on Tompkins.
"Hello, my friend!" that worthy one said. "Why haven't you been in to see me? I've been thinking of you."
"Indeed," said Sidney, in glad surprise. "I've been too busy," he concluded shortly.
"Too busy!" echoed the other in evident surprise. And then he waited expectantly.