"I guess our trade wouldn't amount to much," said Jess, flushing a little.
"'Every little bit added to what you've got makes just a little bit more,'" quoted Bobby. "And let me tell you, Mr. Thomas Hargrew keeps first-class goods and only asks a fair profit."
Jess laughed; but she caught at the straw held out to her, too. She knew it would be useless to go to Mr. Closewick's, where they usually traded. Was it honest to try and obtain credit at another grocery?
"I am afraid your father wouldn't welcome me as a customer," said Jess, gravely. "Ours isn't always a cash trade. Mother's money comes so very irregular that we have to run a bill at the grocery and the market and other places."
"Come on and give us a sample order," urged Bobby. "Father will be glad to get another book account. Now, if you were running a store I'd patronize it! We Central High girls ought to work together—just like a lodge. Come on."
She fairly dragged Jess by the hand into the store on Market Street, over the door of which Mr. Hargrew's name was displayed. The clerks were busy at the moment, but Mr. Hargrew was
