"No old clothes, Moses; nothing to sell to-day."
At this Butsey White's lathery face suddenly appeared at the second-story window.
"He doesn't want to buy—he wants to sell us something," he said. "Patent underwear and all that sort of thing."
Stover, red to the ears, advanced to the steps and stopped.
"Well?" said the Coffee-colored Angel as the guardian of the steps.
"I'm the new boy," said Stover in a gentle voice.
"The what?"
"The new boy."
"Impossible!"
"He's not!"