ript articles displayed in the windows and outside, Abner Sands
kept the village store.

It was a dark, gloomy place, crowded with articles for family use. The
proprietor enjoyed a monopoly of the village trade, and, in spite of
occasional bad debts, did a snug business and was able every year to
make an addition to his store of savings in the county savings bank.

He was a cautious man, and, by being well acquainted with the
circumstances and habits of every man in the village, knew whom to trust
and to whom to refuse credit. John Trafton belonged to the latter
class.

Mr. Sands knew, as everybody else knew, that all his money was invested
in liquor and that the chance of paying a bill for articles needful for
the household was very small indeed.

When, therefore, Robert entered the store he took it for granted that he
meant to ask credit, and he was all ready for a refusal.

"What do you charge for your tea, Mr. Sands?" the boy asked.

"Different prices, according to quality," answered the storekeeper, not
thinking it necessary to go into details.

"How much is the cheapest?"

"Fifty cents a pound."

"Do you call it a pretty good article?" continued our hero.

"Very fair; I use it in my own family," answered Abner, looking over his
spectacles at his young customer.

"I guess I'll take a pound," said Robert with the air of one who had
plenty of money.

"A pound?" ejaculated Abner Sands in surprise.

"Yes, sir."

A pound of tea for one in John Trafton's circumstances seemed to Mr.
Sands an extraordinary order. Considering that it was probably to be
charged, it seemed to the cautious trader an impudent attempt to impose
upon him, and he looked sternly at our young hero.

"We don't trust," he said coldly.

"I haven't asked you to trust me, Mr. Sands," said Robert
independently.

"You don't mean to say you're ready to pay for it cash down, do you?"
asked Abner, his countenance expressing amazement.

"Yes, I do."

"Show me the money."

"I'll show you the money when I get my tea," said Robert, provoked at
Mr. Sands' resolute incredulity. "I've told you I will pay you before I
leave the store. If you don't want to sell your goods, say so!"

"Come, come! there ain't no use in gettin' angry," said the trader in a
conciliatory tone. "Your trade's as good as anybody's if you've got
money to pay for the goods."

"I've already told you I have, Mr. Sands."

"All right, Robert. You shall have the tea."