This made his profits for the day
seventy cents.
"That isn't as well as I used to do," said Paul to himself, "but
perhaps I can make something more by and by. I will go now and
see what I can get for the ring."
As he had determined, he proceeded to a pawnbroker's shop which
he had often passed. It was on Chatham street, and was kept by
an old man, an Englishman by birth, who, though he lived meanly
in a room behind his shop, was popularly supposed to have
accumulated a considerable fortune.
CHAPTER XV
THE PAWNBROKER'S SHOP
Stuffed behind the counter, and on the shelves of the
pawnbroker's shop, were articles in almost endless variety. All
was fish that came to his net. He was willing to advance on
anything that had a marketable value, and which promised to yield
him, I was about to say, a fair profit. But a fair profit was
far from satisfying the old man. He demanded an extortionate
profit from those whom ill-fortune drove to his door for relief.
Eliakim Henderson, for that was his name, was a small man, with a
bald head, scattering yellow whiskers, and foxlike eyes.
Spiderlike he waited for the flies who flew of their own accord
into his clutches, and took care not to let them go until he had
levied a large tribute.
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