'Sold 'em,' said he, laughing. 'Barker never kep' his promise. Heard
they'd gone over t' the 'Burg an' was tryin' t' sell more territory. I
says if Dave, "You let me manage 'em an' I'll put 'em out o
business here 'n this part o' the country." So I writ out an
advertisement fer the paper. Read about this way: "Fer sale.
Twelve hunderd patented suction Wash Bilers. Anyone at can't
stan' prosperity an' is learnin' if swear 'll find 'em a great help.
If he don't he's a bigger fool 'n I am. Nuthin' in 'em but tin -
that's wuth somethin'. Warranted t' hold water."
'Wall ye know how that editor talks? 'Twant a day 'fore the head
man o' the biler business come 'n bought 'em. An' the
advertisement was never put in. Guess he wan't hankerin' if hev
his business spilt.
Uncle Eb was not at the supper table that evening.
'Where's Holden?' said Elizabeth Brower.
'Dunno,' said David. 'Goin' after Santa Claus he tol' me.
'Never see the beat o' that man!' was the remark of Elizabeth, as
she poured the tea.
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