my style," he said. "Don't I look fashionable?"
"I'll have to ask you twenty-five cents more for that coat," said the old dealer.
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I must. I ought to ask more."
"Then you may keep the rest of the clo'es. I don't want 'em."
Sam made a movement as if to leave the store.
"Give me twenty cents more, my son."
"Didn't I tell you I wasn't your son? I won't give you no twenty cents, but I'll tell you what I'll do – I'll give you these clo'es I've got on."
The old man looked at them dubiously.
"They ain't worth much," he said.
"I know they ain't but they're worth twenty cents."
There was another critical inspection, and the decision was given in Sam's favor.
"You may have the clo'es," said the old man. "Now, where's your money?"
Sam produced a five-dollar bill.
"Give me a dollar back," he said.
The old man looked at him with the expression of one who had been cheated.
"You said you had only four dollars," he complained.
"No, I didn't. I said I had four. I didn't say that was all."
"These clo'es are worth five dollars."
"No, they ain't, and you won't get it from me. Do you think I'm going to give you all the money I've got?"
The old man still looked dissatisfied. "I'm losin' money on these clo'es," he muttered.
"Oh, well if you don't want to sell 'em, you needn't," said Sam, independently. "There's another place round the corner."
"Give me four fifty."
"No, I won't. I won't give you another cent. I'll give you four dollars and these clo'es I have on. A bargain's a bargain. If you're goin' to do it, say the word; and if you ain't, I'm off."
Sam carried his point, and received back a dollar in change.
"You needn't send the clo'es round to my hotel – I'll change 'em here," said our hero.
He set to work at once, and in five minutes the change was effected. The other clothes fitted him moderately well, but the blue coat – of the kind popularly called a swallow-tail – nearly trailed upon the ground. But for that Sam cared little. He surveyed himself with satisfaction, and felt that he was well dressed.
"I guess I'll do now," he said to himself, complacently, as he walked out of the shop.
CHAPTER II.
SAM'S FIRST DAY IN BUSINESS
"Is the boss in?"
The speaker was Sam Barker, and the young man addressed was a clerk in the office of Henry Dalton & Co. He gazed with wonder and amusement at the grotesque figure before him.
"Have you business with Mr. Dalton?" he inquired.
"I should think I had," said Sam. "Is he in?"
"Not yet. He'll be here presently."
"All right. I'll wait."
Carefully parting the tails of his coat, Sam coolly deposited himself in an office chair, and looked about him.
"Are you in business for yourself?" asked the clerk.
"I have been," said Sam, "but I'm goin' to work for Mr. Dalton now."
"Did Mr. Dalton hire you?"
"Of course he did. He's goin' to pay me five dollars a week. How much does he pay you?"
"That's a secret," said the young man, good-naturedly.
"Is it? Well, I'll excuse you."
"You're very kind. That's a stylish coat you've got on."
"Isn't it?" said Sam, proudly, and rising from the chair he turned around in order to display fully the admired garment.
"Who is your tailor?"
"I forget his name, but he hangs out on Chatham Street. I only bought this coat yesterday."
"Don't you think it's a little too long?"
"Maybe it is," said Sam, "but I don't mind it. I can cut it down if I want to. Maybe they've got another like it, if you want one."
"I'm supplied just at present," said the young man. "What do you expect to do here?"
"I'm to be the errand boy. Does the boss work you very hard?"
"Oh, no, he's reasonable. How did you happen to get in with him?"
"I brought home his little boy. The little chap was cryin' round the streets, when I met him and took him home."
"Oh! you're the boy I heard him speak of. Well, you're in luck, for Mr. Dalton is an excellent employer."
"Have you been with him long?"
"About four years."
"Do you think he'll raise me soon?"
"That will depend a good deal upon yourself. If you work faithfully, no doubt he will."
Sam made a resolution to work faithfully, but then he found it easier to make resolutions than keep them.
"There's Mr. Dalton now," said the clerk.
Sam rose and faced his employer. The latter looked at him in some surprise, not immediately recognizing under the strange dress the boy whom he had engaged.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm the new boy," said Sam. "Don't you remember you told me you'd hire me at five dollars a week?"
"Oh, you are the boy, are you? Why, you look like an old man! Where did you raise that coat?"
"I bought it."
"It makes you look like your own grandfather."
"Does it?" said Sam, rather taken aback. "I thought it was stylish."
"You better exchange it. I don't want a boy in my employment to be dressed in that way. You'll be taken for an old gentleman from the country."
Sam smiled, but looked rather disturbed.
"I don't know as the man will take it back," he said.
"Go and see. I'll give you a couple of dollars. He will change it if you pay him something extra."
"I'll fix it," said Sam, accepting the money with alacrity. "Shall I go now?"
"Yes, and come
