bserve the
effect of his announcement.

"Five dollars," repeated Paul. "Take it back, then, and wait till A. T.
Stewart wants one. I haven't got five dollars to throw away."

But the pawnbroker did not expect to get his first price. He named it,
in order to have a chance to fall.

"Stay," he said, as Paul made a motion to leave; "what will you give me
for it?"

"I'll give you a dollar and a half," said Paul, turning back.

"A dollar and a half!" exclaimed Eliakim, holding up both hands in
horror. "Do you want to ruin me?"

"No, I think you want to ruin me. I am willing to pay a fair price."

"You may have it for three dollars and a half."

"No doubt you'd be glad to get that. Come, Phil, we'll go."

"Stay; you may have it for three dollars, though I shall lose by it."

"So should I, if I paid you that price. I can wait till some other
time."

But Eliakim did not intend to let this chance slip. He had found the
fiddle rather unsalable, and feared if he lost his chance of disposing
of it, it might remain on his hands for a year more. He was willing,
therefore, to take less than the profit he usually calculated upon in
the sale of articles which remained unredeemed.

"You may have it for two dollars and a half," he said.

As far as Paul could judge, though he did not know much about the price
of violins, this was a reasonable price. But he knew that Eliakim must
have got it for considerably less, or he would not so soon have come
down to this sum. He did not hesitate, therefore, to try to get it a
little cheaper.

"I'll give you two dollars and a quarter," he said, "and not a penny
more."

Eliakim tried hard to get ten cents more, but Paul saw that he was sure
of his purchase, and remained obdurate. So, after a pretense of putting
up the fiddle, the pawnbroker finally said, "You may have it, but I tell
you that I shall lose money."

"All right," said Paul; "hand it over."

"Where is the money?" asked Eliakim, cautiously.

Paul drew from his pocket a two-dollar bill and twenty-five cents in
currency, and received the fiddle. The pawnbroker scrutinized the money
closely, fearing that it might be bad; but finally, making up his mind
on that point, deposited it in his money drawer.

"Well, Phil, we may as well go," said Paul. "We've got through our
business."

The pawnbroker heard this, and a sudden suspicion entered his mind that
Paul had been too sharp for him.

"I might have got twenty-five cents