d approached,
and heard the last part of the colloquy. He was considered by some as
a hard man, but there was one thing he always required of those in his
employ; that was to treat all purchasers with uniform courtesy, whatever
their circumstances.

"Are you objecting to sending this lady's bundle?" said Mr. Barclay,
sternly.

The clerk looked up in confusion.

"I told her we would send it," he stammered.

"I have heard what passed. You have been deficient in politeness. If
this happens again, you leave my employ."

"I will take your address," said the clerk, in a subdued tone.

Mrs. Hoffman gave it, and left the store, thankful for the interference
of the great merchant who had given his clerk a lesson which the latter,
as he valued his situation, found it advisable to bear in mind.

CHAPTER XII

THE BARREL THIEF

While Mike Donovan was engaged in his contest with Paul, his companion
had quietly walked off with the shirt. It mattered very little to him
which party conquered, as long as he carried off the spoils. His conduct
in the premises was quite as unsatisfactory to Mike as it was to Paul.
When Mike found himself in danger of being overpowered, he appealed
to his companion for assistance, and was incensed to see him coolly
disregarding the appeal, and selfishly appropriating the booty.

"The mane thafe!" he exclaimed after the fight was over, and he was
compelled to retreat. "He let me be bate, and wouldn't lift his finger
to help me. I'd like to put a head on him, I would."

Just at that moment Mike felt quite as angry with his friend, Jerry
McGaverty, as with his late opponent.

"The shirt's mine, fair," he said to himself, "and I'll make Jerry give
it to me."

But Jerry had disappeared, and Mike didn't know where to look for him.
In fact, he had entered a dark alleyway, and, taking the shirt from the
paper in which it was wrapped, proceeded to examine his prize.

The unusual size struck him.

"By the powers," he muttered, "it's big enough for me great-grandfather
and all his children. I wouldn't like to pay for the cloth it tuck to
make it. But I'll wear it, anyway."

Jerry was not particular as to an exact fit. His nether garments were
several sizes too large for him, and the shirt would complete his
costume appropriately. He certainly did need a new shirt, for the one
he had on was the only article of the kind he possessed, and was so far
gone that its best days, if it ever had any, ap