"Well, George, how's business?" asked Paul.
"Fair," said Barry. "That isn't what's the matter."
"What is it, then?"
"I'm sick. I ought not to be out here to-day."
"What's the matter with you?"
"I've caught a bad cold, and feel hot and feverish. I ought to
be at home and abed."
"Why don't you go?"
"I can't leave my business."
"It's better to do that than to get a bad sickness."
"I suppose it is. I am afraid I am going to have a fever. One
minute I'm hot, another I'm cold. But I can't afford to close up
my business."
"Why don't you get somebody to take your place?"
"I don't know anybody I could get that I could trust. They'd
sell my goods, and make off with the money."
"Can you trust me?" asked Paul, who saw a chance to benefit
himself as well as his friend.
"Yes, Paul, I could trust you, but I'm afraid I couldn't pay you
enough to make it worth while for you to stand here."
"I haven't got anything to do just now," said Paul. "I was in
the prize-package business, but two fellows stole my stock in
trade, and I'm not going into it again. It's about played out.
I'm your man. Just make me an offer."
"I should like to have you take my place for a day or two, for I
know you wouldn't cheat me.
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