Paul the Peddler, or the Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant by Horatio Alger
page 50 of 214 (23%)
page 50 of 214 (23%)
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"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 |
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