Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant. Alger Horatio Jr.
fifty cents also, to Paul’s great amazement. How Teddy’s business could pay, as it was managed, he could not comprehend. One thing was certain, however, his new competitor monopolized the trade, and for two hours Paul did not get a solitary customer.
“There’s something about this I don’t understand,” he pondered, thoughtfully. “He must lose money; but he’s spoiled my trade.”
Paul did not like to give up his beat, but he found himself compelled to. Accordingly he took his basket, and moved off toward Wall street. Here he was able to start in business without competitors, and succeeded in selling quite a number of packages, until a boy came up, and said:
“There’s a feller up at the post office that’s givin’ fifty-cent prizes. I got one of ‘em.”
There was a group of half-a-dozen boys around Paul, two of whom were about to invest; but on hearing thus they changed their intention, and walked of in the direction of the post office.
Looking up, Paul saw that the boy who had injured his trade was Mike, who had drawn the first fifty-cent prize from his competitor.
“Can’t you stop interfering?” he said, angrily. “I’ve lost two customers by you.”
“If you don’t like it, you can lump it,” said Mike, insolently. “This is a free country, ain’t it?”
“It’s a mean trick,” said Paul, indignantly.
“Say that ag’in, and I’ll upset your basket,” returned Mike.
“I’ll say it as often as I like,” said Paul, who wasn’t troubled by cowardice. “Come on, if you want to.”
Mike advanced a step, doubling his fists; but, finding that Paul showed no particular sign of fear, he stopped short, saying: “I’ll lick you some other time.”
“You’d better put it off,” said Paul. “Have a prize package, sir? Only five cents!”
This was addressed to a young man who came out of an insurance office.
“I don’t mind if I do,” said the young man. “Five cents, is it? What prize may I expect?”
“The highest is ten cents.”
“There’s a boy around the post office that gives fifty-cent prizes, mister,” said Mike. “You’d better buy of him.”
“I’ll wait till another time,” said the young man. “Here’s the money, Johnny. Now for the package.”
“Look here,” said Paul, indignantly, when his customer had gone away; “haven’t you anything to do except to drive off my customers?”
“Give me two cents on every package,” said Mike, “and I’ll tell ‘em you give dollar prizes.”
“That would be a lie, and I don’t want to do business that way.”
Mike continued his persecutions a while longer, and then turned the corner into Nassau street.
“I’m glad he’s gone,” thought Paul. “Now there’s a chance for me.”
He managed after a while to sell twenty of his packages. By this time it was twelve o’clock, and he began to feel hungry. He resolved, therefore, to go home to dinner and come out again in the afternoon. He didn’t know how much he had made, but probably about fifty cents. He had made more than double as much the day before in less time; but then he did not suffer from competition.
He began to doubt whether he could long pursue this business, since other competitors were likely to spring up.
As he walked by the post office he had the curiosity to look and see how his competitor was getting along.
Teddy had started, originally, with seventy-five packages; but of those scarcely a dozen were left. A group of boys were around him. Among them was Mike, who was just on the point of buying another package. As before, he put it in his pocket, and it was not till Teddy asked, “What luck, Mike?” that he drew it out, and opening it again, produced fifty cents.
“It’s the big prize!” he said. “Sure I’m in luck, anyhow.”
“You’re the boy that’s lucky,” said Teddy, with a grin.
As Paul witnessed the scene a light broke upon him. Now he understood how Teddy could afford to give such large prizes. Mike and the other boy, Jim, were only confederates of his—decoy ducks—who kept drawing over again the same prize, which was eventually given back to Teddy. It was plain now why Mike put the package into his pocket before opening it. It was to exchange it for another packet into which the money had previously been placed, but which was supposed by the lookers-on to be the same that had just been purchased. The prize could afterward be placed in a new packet and used over again.
“That ain’t the same package,” said Paul, announcing his discovery. “He had it all the while in his pocket.”
“Look here,” blustered Mike, “you jest mind your own business! That’s the best thing for you.”
“Suppose I don’t?”
“If you don’t there may be a funeral to-morrow of a boy about your size.”
There was a laugh at Paul’s expense, but he took it coolly.
“I’ll send you a particular invitation to attend, if I can get anybody to go over to the island.”
As Mike had been a resident at Blackwell’s Island on two different occasions, this produced a laugh at his expense, in the midst of which Paul walked off.
CHAPTER IV
TEDDY GIVES UP BUSINESS
“Have you sold all your packages, Paul?” asked Jimmy, as our hero entered the humble room, where the table was already spread with a simple dinner.
“No,” said Paul, “I only sold twenty. I begin to think that the prize-package business will soon be played out.”
“Why?”
“There’s too many that’ll go into it.”
Here Paul related his experience of the morning, explaining how it was that Teddy had managed to distance him in the competition.
“Can’t you do the same, Paul?” asked Jimmy. “Mother’s got a gold dollar she could lend you.”
“That might do,” said Paul; “but I don’t know any boy I could trust to draw it except you, and some of them would know we were brothers.”
“I think, Paul, that would be dishonest,” said Mrs. Hoffman. “I would rather make less, if I were you, and do it honestly.”
“Maybe you’re right, mother. I’ll try it again this afternoon, keeping as far away from Teddy as I can. If I find I can’t make it go, I’ll try some other business.”
“Jimmy, have you shown Paul your drawing?” said his mother.
“Here it is, Paul,” said Jimmy, producing his drawing-book, from which he had copied a simple design of a rustic cottage.
“Why, that’s capital, Jimmy,” said Paul, in real surprise. “I had no idea you would succeed so well.”
“Do you really think so, Paul?” asked the little boy, much pleased.
“I really do. How long did it take you?”
“Only a short time—not more than half an hour, I should think,” said Mrs. Hoffman. “I think Jimmy succeeded very well.”
“You’ll make a great artist some time, Jimmy,” said Paul.
“I wish I could,” said the little boy. “I should like to earn some money, so that you and mother need not work so hard.”
“Hard work agrees with me. I’m tough,” said Paul. “But when we get to be men, Jimmy, we’ll make so much money that mother needn’t work at all. She shall sit in the parlor all day, dressed in silk, with nothing to do.”
“I