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 party to it. Yet he lacked the courage to object, afraid that objection might sum him up as a weak and pitiful being lacking in daring.

He listened, fascinated for all his squeamishness, to the boldness of Sam's attack; and presently a tinge of admiration for the clerk's shrewdness grew upon him. For it was apparent that Sam was holding his own with this real estate man who was probably a veteran of hundreds of such conflicts. Mr. Plecktoff scoffed and cajoled, sneered and argued, grew cold and became wheedling, but all to no purpose. Suddenly Sam shifted the battle ground.

"How about a coat of paint?" he demanded.

Mr. Plecktoff bristled. "What about it?"

"It has to be freshened with a coat of paint. Who's going to pay for that?"

"The tenant."

"Not this tenant. We're renting something we can use, not something we've got to doctor. Here; I'll meet you halfway. You paint the store and we'll pay you twenty-two dollars and a half a month."

"Twenty-four," said Mr. Plecktoff.

"Twenty-three," said Sam. "I can't stand here all night. Take it or leave it." He turned toward the door.

"No wonder," Mr. Plecktoff said feelingly, "that landlords die in poorhouses. Twenty-three dollars, then, and a deposit now. If you want the