"Clear out of this shop, you young vagabond," repeated the clerk.
"Then give me back my bill."
"That you may pass it again? No, sir, I shall do no such thing."
"It doesn't belong to me," said Dick. "A gentleman that owes me for
a shine gave it to me to change."
"A likely story," said the clerk; but he seemed a little uneasy.
"I'll go and call him," said Dick.
He went out, and found his late customer standing on the Astor House
steps.
"Well, youngster, have you brought back my change? You were a
precious long time about it. I began to think you had cleared out
with the money."
"That aint my style," said Dick, proudly.
"Then where's the change?"
"I haven't got it."
"Where's the bill then?"
"I haven't got that either."
"You young rascal!"
"Hold on a minute, mister," said Dick, "and I'll tell you all about
it. The man what took the bill said it wasn't good, and kept it."
"The bill was perfectly good. So he kept it, did he? I'll go with
you to the store, and see whether he won't give it back to me."
Dick led the way, and the gentleman followed him into the store.
At the reappearance of Dick in such company, the clerk flushed a
little, and looked nervous. He fancied that he could browbeat a
ragged boot-black, but with a gentleman he saw that it would be a
different matter. He did not seem to notice the newcomers, but
began to replace some goods on the shelves.
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