"I don't mind if I do," said the young man. "Five cents, is it? What
prize may I expect?"

"The highest is ten cents."

"There's a boy around the post office that gives fifty-cent prizes,
mister," said Mike. "You'd better buy of him."

"I'll wait till another time," said the young man. "Here's the money,
Johnny. Now for the package."

"Look here," said Paul, indignantly, when his customer had gone away;
"haven't you anything to do except to drive off my customers?"

"Give me two cents on every package," said Mike, "and I'll tell 'em you
give dollar prizes."

"That would be a lie, and I don't want to do business that way."

Mike continued his persecutions a while longer, and then turned the
corner into Nassau street.

"I'm glad he's gone," thought Paul. "Now there's a chance for me."

He managed after a while to sell twenty of his packages. By this time it
was twelve o'clock, and he began to feel hungry. He resolved, therefore,
to go home to dinner and come out again in the afternoon. He didn't know
how much he had made, but probably about fifty cents. He had made more
than double as much the day before in less time; but then he did not