buyers," so Mr. Denton stood still and listened.

A large pile of "ready-made" garments lay upon a convenient table, and
as the buyer talked, he held them up for examination.

"I find I can get this grade of goods from a man named Finckelstein for
ten cents less per garment than I have been getting them from Goldberg.
They are very well made, and the quality is satisfactory. No one will
ever guess that they are not exactly what we advertise. I ordered this
lot for closer inspection. If they are satisfactory to you, sir, I will
give him a stock order."

Mr. Day mused a little before he replied. Meanwhile he was fingering the
garments in a critical manner.

"Umph! Isn't there a peculiar odor about these garments, Smith?" he
asked, after a minute. "I am sure there is! Really, I wish you hadn't
brought them in here!"

"I will take them away immediately, sir," said the buyer,
apologetically. "They were made in a 'sweatshop,' you see, so it is
quite possible they are permeated with unpleasant odors, but I will have
them aired before they are put on the counters."

"Are you sure they are not permeated with disease?" asked Mr. Denton,
suddenly. "I am told that those 'sweat-shops' are disgustingly dirty
places."

"Oh, the Board of Health looks after that," said the buyer quickly,
"and, besides, I saw a good many of Finckelstein's hands--they were
mostly clean, respectable looking women."

"How much do they get apiece for these?" questioned Mr. Denton again, as
he picked up a garment and held it at arm's length to inspect it.

"Oh, about forty cents, I guess; and they can make two in a day. There's
a good deal of work on them," was the buyer's answer.

"What do they cost us?"

The question was asked rather sharply.

Mr. Smith consulted his notebook before he answered.

"Fifty cents in gross lots, and sixty by the dozen. We use a great many;
it will ruin Goldberg to lose us."

"And what do we get for them?"

Mr. Denton was reaching for the price tag now. His brow was almost black
as he asked the question.

Mr. Smith looked at him anxiously--he could not quite comprehend him.

"Two dollars, sir," he answered, smiling--"and they sell like hot
cakes. It's the grade of goods that yields us the best profit."

Mr. Denton dropped the garment with a look of horror in his face.

"Take the things away," he said shortly, "and, see here, Smith, don't
order any more goods from any of those 'sweat-shops!' I won't have
an