On went the press, and the young pressman sat doggedly at his task; but he was all the while watching things in the store and hearing whatever there was to hear.
"I know their prices pretty well," he thought. "Most of the things are marked—ever so much lower than Crofield prices, too."
He had piles of printed bags of different sizes ready for use, now lying around him.
"Time to get at some of those circulars," he was saying, as he arose from his seat at the press and stepped out behind the counter.
"Five pounds of coffee," said a lady, before the counter, in a tone of vexation. "I've waited long enough. Mocha and Java, mixed."
"Thirty-five cents," said Jack.
"Quick, then," said she, and he darted away to fill her order.
"Three and a half pounds of powdered sugar," said another lady, as he passed her.
"Yes, ma'am," said Jack.
"How much is this soap?" asked a stout old woman, and Jack remembered that price too.