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“Here, boy, take this roll of cloth down to the store and give it to Mr. Johnson. Look alive, now, he is waiting for it.”

This imperative address was made by a nervous, quick-spoken salesman, named Robert Brown.

Will was employed in opening a case of goods. He looked up with a glance of disdain.

“I’ve took in another job,” he said. “Ain’t doin’ two things at once. You know the way down. Tote it down yourself.”

“What do you mean, you young rascal?” cried the man, in a passion. “If you stay in this place you will have to do what you are told or you’ll be helped. Take this down at once.”

“What’s goin’ to happen if I don’t?” said Will, dropping the tool he had been using.

“I’ll send you spinning down-stairs and out of the store door in a hurry,” said the man, still fuming.

“Look here, Mr. Brown, or Bob Brown, if you like it better, maybe you don’t know that you’re barking up the wrong tree,” said Will, insolently. “Ordering ain’t in my line. Ask me like a gentleman and I’ll stand on my head for you; but I’m not a feller that’s used to bein’ kicked by any man’s toe or tongue, either.”