William and his friends wanted marbles—simply a few dozen of ordinary glass marbles which could be bought for a few pence. But Mr. Beezum refused to overlook the small matter of the few pence. He refused to give the Outlaws credit.
“My terms to you, young gents, is cash down, an’ well you know it,” he said firmly.
“If you,” said William generously, “let us have the marbles now we’ll give you a halfpenny extra Saturday.”
“You said that once before, young gent, if I remember right,” said Mr. Beezum, adjusting his capacious apron and turning up his shirt-sleeves preparatory to sweeping out his shop.
William was indignant at the suggestion.
“Well,” he said, “well—you talk ’s if that was my fault—’s if I knew my people was going to decide sudden not to give me any money that week simply because one of their cucumber frames got broke by my ball. An’ I brought back the things wot you’d let me have. I brought the trumpet back an the rock——”
“Yes—the trumpet all broke an’ the rock all bit,” said Mr. Beezum. “No—cash down is my terms, an’ I sticks to ’em—if you please, young gents.”
He began his sweeping operations with great energy, and the Outlaws found themselves precipitated into the street by the end of his long broom.
“Mean,” commented William, rising again to the perpendicular. “Jus’ mean! I’ve a good mind not to buy ’em there at all.”
“He’s the only shop that sells ’em,” remarked Ginger.