“Why, I needed some money. You see, I had the misfortune to fail in the finals last Spring, and I hadn’t planned on another year. It costs a good deal here. Food especially. I got sixty-two dollars for them. They were worth two hundred at least. There was a twelve-volume set of the Universal Encyclopedia and a copy of the first edition of Fanning’s Morals. Some others, too. Valuable. He’s still got most of them, and I’m hoping to get them back some day. I’ve bought five or six already. I wanted the encyclopedia, but he put an outrageous price on it. I miss it a great deal. Well, I’m much obliged for your information.”
He turned abruptly toward the door and shuffled across the room. Ira was tempted to remind him that he had obtained no information, but didn’t. Instead: “Who buys books here?” he asked.
“Books? Oh, there are several. All robbers, though. I sold mine to Converse, on Oak Street. He will do as well for you as any of them. If you ever want to read that book of Locke’s, I’ve got it.”
“Old Earnest” passed out, closing the door behind him with a resounding crash. When he had gone Ira smiled at the closed door. Then he chuckled. Then, quite suddenly, he became serious and, seating himself at the table again, picked holes in the blotter with the nib of a pen for quite five minutes. And finally he tossed the pen aside with the air of one who has reached a decision, seized his cap and clattered down the stairs.
Converse’s Second-hand Book Emporium—it seemed to Ira that Warne’s merchants exhibited a marked and peculiar partiality to “emporiums” as opposed to mere “stores”—was not difficult to find, for the sidewalk in front was stacked with broken-backed books and old magazines. It was a dim and dingy place inside, and smelled of dust and old leather. The proprietor arose from an armchair before a small desk under a window and approached smilingly. He was a thin, stoop-shouldered little man in rusty black clothes and wearing a black skullcap. The smile was wonderfully benignant, but the little deep-set eyes looked crafty.
“I just wanted to look around,” said Ira.
“Of course! Certainly! Help yourself, sir. Is there any special subject you’re interested in?”
“N-no, I guess not.” Ira picked up a book from a shelf and examined it carelessly. “I might use a good dictionary, though.”
“I have a fine lot, sir. This way, please.” The proprietor led the way down one of the two dim passages and snapped on an electric light at the end. “Here we are! Big and little, sir. You’ll find the prices plainly marked in the front. Here’s a Webster Unabridged——”
“N-no, I think a smaller one——”