He weighed out the tea and then asked:

"Is there anything more?"

"Yes, sir. How do you sell your sugar?"

"Brown sugar--eight cents."

"I guess that will do. I will take a pound of brown sugar."

"Your folks don't generally buy sugar. I didn't know you used it."

"We are going to use a pound," said Robert, who did not fancy the
trader's interference.

"Well, I'd jest as soon sell you a pound as anybody as long as you've
got the money to pay for it."

Robert said nothing, although this remark was made in an interrogative
tone, as if Mr. Sands still doubted whether our hero would be able to
pay for his purchases.

There was nothing to do, therefore, but to weigh out the sugar.

The two bundles lay on the counter, but Mr. Sands watched them as a cat
watches a mouse, with a vague apprehension that our hero might seize
them and carry them off without payment.

But Robert was better prepared than he supposed.

From his vest pocket he drew the two-dollar bill, and, passing it across
the counter, he said:

"You may take your pay out of this."

Abner Sands took the bill and stared at it as if some mystery attached
to it. He scrutinized it carefully through his spectacles, as if there
was a possibility that it might be bad, but it had an unmistakably
genuine look.

"It seems to be good," he remarked cautiously.

"Of course it's good!" said Robert. "You don't take me for a
counterfeiter, do you, Mr. Sands?"

"It's a good deal of money for you to have, Robert. Where did you get
it?"

"Why do you ask that question?" asked our hero, provoked.

"I was a leetle surprised at your having so much money--that's all. Did
your uncle give it to you?"

"I don't see what that is to you, Mr. Sands. If you don't want to sell
your tea and sugar, you can keep them."

If there had been another grocery store in the village Robert would have
gone thither, but it has already been said that Abner Sands had the
monopoly of the village trade.

"You're kind of touchy this evenin', Robert," said Abner placidly, for
he was so given to interesting himself in the affairs of his neighbors
that he did not realize that his curiosity was displayed in an
impertinent manner. "Of course I want to sell all I can. You've got
considerable money comin' back to you. Don't you want to buy something
else?"

"I guess not to-night."

"As long as you've got the cash to pay, I'm perfectly ready to sell you
goods. Lemme see. Fifty-eight from