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 Sam's tones when he answered were decisive. "He and I won't do any business. I neither lend nor borrow." When his luncheon hour came he retired to the rear of the store with a box of crackers and a bottle of milk and brought out a book. Its title was The Secrets of Business Success.

That night, at the supper table, Mr. Quinby extolled the new clerk. He was impressed with Sam's good qualities. The fifteen dollars a week no longer worried him, for he was convinced that the remarkable young man would be worth the money. And as he ceased to fret about the fifteen dollars his feelings toward his son underwent a sudden change.

"To-day I sent Sam to deliver two shirts. What do you think he did? Took along several ties and convinced the man's wife that her husband ought to wear ties that harmonized with the shirts. Gave her a neat talk on style. Sold her two. He has the best business head I've seen on a young fellow in a long time. You ought to make it a point, Bert, to get acquainted with him."

Bert made no promises. He resented the praise, probably because his own work had never been highly regarded. His imagination pictured Sam Sickles as a smirking, fawning figure with the art of draping itself ingratiatingly over a counter.

"Regular ninny," he decided, and gave the de-