"It sounds good," he said, with enthusiasm. "I'd like to branch out
and do a bigger business, and I'm obliged to you for mentioning it.
But--well, you come and stay at my house to-night and I'll think about
it."
It was then after sundown and time for the larger stores in Saltillo
to close. The clerks in Bell's put away their books, whirled the
combination of the safe, put on their coats and hats and left for their
homes. Bell padlocked the big, double wooden front doors, and we stood,
for a moment, breathing the keen, fresh mountain air coming across the
foothills.
A big man walked down the street and stopped in front of the high porch
of the store. His long, black moustache, black eyebrows, and curly black
hair contrasted queerly with his light, pink complexion, which belonged,
by rights, to a blonde. He was about forty, and wore a white vest,
a white hat, a watch chain made of five-dollar gold pieces linked
together, and a rather well-fitting two-piece gray suit of the cut
that college boys of eighteen are wont to affect.
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