into any other.

In reality he managed most of the details of the selling. He heard
what the two men said, and at the same time was considering that he
was to send the wagon round the first thing in the morning with pease
to the postmaster's, and a new barrel of sugar to the Amidons, and he
was calculating the price of sugar at the slight recent rise.

"Mr. Price," said Anderson to him, "may I ask that you will tell this
gentleman if a little boy went into my office a short time ago?"

The clerk looked blankly at Anderson, who patiently repeated his
question.

"A little boy," repeated the clerk.

"Yes," said Anderson.

Price gazed reflectively and in something of a troubled fashion at
Anderson, then at Carroll. His mind was in the throes of displacing a
barrel of sugar and a half-peck of pease by a little boy. Then his
face brightened. He spoke quickly and decidedly.

"Yes," said he, "just before this gentleman came in, a little boy,
running, yes."

"You did not see him come out while we were talking?" asked Anderson.

"No, oh no."

Carroll asked no further and left, with a good-day to Anderson, who
scarcely returned it. He jumped into his carriage, and the swift tap
of the horse's feet died away on the macadam.

"Sugar ought to bring about two cents on a pound more," said the
clerk to Anderson, returning to the office, and then he stopped short
as Anderson started staring at an enormous advertisement picture
which was stationed, partly for business reasons, partly for
ornament, in a corner near the office door. It was a figure of a
gayly dressed damsel, nearly life-size, and was supposed by its
blooming appearance to settle finally the merit of a new health food.
The other clerk, who was a young fellow, hardly more than a boy, had
placed it there. He had reached the first fever-stage of admiration
of the other sex, and this gaudy beauty had resembled in his eyes a
fair damsel of Banbridge whom he secretly adored.

Therefore he had ensconced it carefully in the corner near the office
door, and often glanced at it with reverent and sheepish eyes of
delight. Anderson never paid any attention to the thing, but now for
some reason he glanced at it in passing, and to his astonishment it
moved. He made one stride towards it, and thrust it aside, and behind
it stood the boy, with a face of impudent innocence.

Anderson stood looking at him for a second. The boy's eyes did not
fall, but his expression changed.