He was not at all aware that anybody was watching him; but he was just telling another customer about tea and baking-soda when he felt a hand upon his shoulder.
"See here," demanded Mr. Gifford, "what are you doing behind the counter?"
"I was afraid they'd get tired of waiting and go somewhere else," said Jack. "I know something about waiting on customers. Yes, ma'am, that's a fine tea. Forty-eight cents. Half pound? Yes ma'am. In a jiffy, Mr. Gifford;—there are bags enough for to-day."
"I think you may stay," said the head of the house. "I didn't need another boy; but I begin to think I do need a blacksmith, a carpenter, a printer, and a good sharp salesman." As he was turning away he added, "It's surprising how quickly he has picked up our prices."
Jack's fingers were trembling nervously, but his face brightened as he did up that package.
Mr. Gifford waited while the Crofield boy answered yet another customer and sold some coffee, and told Jack to go right on.
"Come to the desk," he then said. "I don't even know your name. Come."
Very hot and yet a little shaky was Jack as he followed; but Mr. Gifford was not a verbose man.
"Mr. Jones," he said to the head clerk, "please take down his name;—what is it?"
"John Ogden, sir," and after other questions and answers, Mr. Gifford said: