even to one of awe.
"Will you do me a favor, sir?"

"With pleasure"--again the same quiet smile. He had read the financial
workings of the bookseller's mind with infinite amusement and decided to
see more of him. "What can I do for you?"

"I want you to come over with me to my shop. You won't object, will you,
Otto? I won't keep him a minute."

"Let me come a little later, sir, say about nine o'clock. I have work
here until six and an engagement, which is important, until nine. You
are open as late as that?"

"Oh, I am always open, or can be," Kelsey answered. "What would I shut
up shop for except to keep out the rats--human and otherwise? I live in
my place, and, as I live alone, nobody ever disturbs me--nobody I want
to see--and I do want you, and want you very much. Well, then, come at
nine, and if the blinds are up, ring the bell." And so the acquaintance
began.

And yet, interesting as he found these diversions with his neighbors,
there were moments when, despite his determination to be cheerful and to
add his quota to the general fund of good-fellowship, he had to summon
all his courage to prevent his spirit sinking to its lowest ebb. It was
then he would turn to the thing that lay nearest to hand, his work--work
often so irksome to him that, but for his sense both of obligation
and of justice to his employer and his love for Masie, he would have
abandoned it altogether.

A possible relief came when through the protests of a customer he
had begun to realize the clearer Kling's deficiencies and had, in
consequence, cast about for some plan of helping him to do a larger and
more remunerative business.

Several ways by which this could be accomplished were outlined in his
mind. The disorder everywhere apparent in the shop should first come to
an end. The present chaos of tables, chairs, bureaus, and sideboards,
heaped higgledy-piggledy one upon the other--the customers edging their
way between lanes of dusty furniture--must next be abolished. So must
the jumble of glass, china, curios, and lamps. This completed, color and
form would be considered, each taking its proper place in the general
scheme.

To accomplish these results, all the unsalable, useless, and ugly
furniture taking up valuable space must be carted away to some auction
room and sold for what it would bring. Light, air, and much-needed room
would then follow, and prices advanced to make up for the loss on the
"rattletrap" and the "rickety."