True Riches | Page 2

for the last
fifteen or twenty years, and I think my observation during that time is
worth something. It tells me this--that a bold face, a smooth tongue,
and an easy conscience are worth more in our business than any other
qualities. With these you may do as you list. They tell far better than all
the 'one-price' and fair-dealing professions, in which people have little
faith. In fact, the mass will overreach if they can, and therefore regard
these 'honest' assumptions with suspicion."
The young man, Edward Claire, did not make a reply for nearly a
minute. Something in the words of Mr. Jasper had fixed his thought,
and left him, for a brief space of time, absorbed in his own reflections.
Lifting, at length, his eyes, which had been resting on the floor, he
said--
"Our profit on to-day's sales must reach very nearly fifty dollars."
"Just that sum, if I have made a right estimate," replied Jasper; "and
that is what I call a fair day's business."
While he was yet speaking, a lad entered the store, and laid upon the
counter a small sealed package, bearing the superscription, "Leonard

Jasper, Esq." The merchant cut the red tape with which it was tied,
broke the seal, and opening the package, took therefrom several papers,
over which he ran his eyes hurriedly; his clerk, as he did so, turning
away.
"What's this?" muttered Jasper to himself, not at first clearly
comprehending the nature of the business to which the communication
related. "Executor! To what? Oh! ah! Estate of Ruben Elder. Humph!
What possessed him to trouble me with this business? I've no time to
play executor to an estate, the whole proceeds of which would hardly
fill my trousers' pocket. He was a thriftless fellow at best, and never
could more than keep his head out of water. His debts will swallow up
every thing, of course, saving my commissions, which I would gladly
throw in to be rid of this business."
With this, Jasper tossed the papers into his desk, and, taking up his hat,
said to his clerk--"You may shut the store, Edward. Before you leave,
see that every thing is made safe."
The merchant than retired, and wended his way homeward.
Edward Claire seemed in no hurry to follow this example. His first act
was to close the window-shutters and door--turning the key in the latter,
and remaining inside.
Entirely alone, and hidden from observation, the young man seated
himself, and let his thoughts, which seemed to be active on some
subject, take their own way. He was soon entirely absorbed. Whatever
were his thoughts, one thing would have been apparent to an
observer--they did not run in a quiet stream. Something disturbed their
current, for his brow was knit, his compressed lips had a disturbed
motion, and his hands moved about at times uneasily. At length he
arose, not hurriedly, but with a deliberate motion, threw his arms
behind him, and, bending forward, with his eyes cast down, paced the
length of the store two or three times, backward and forward, slowly.
"Fifty dollars profit in one day," he at length said, half audibly. "That
will do, certainly. I'd be contented with a tenth part of the sum. He's

bound to get rich; that's plain. Fifty dollars in a single day! Leonard
Jasper, you're a shrewd one. I shall have to lay aside some of my
old-fashioned squeamishness, and take a few lessons from so
accomplished a teacher. But, he's a downright cheat!"
Some better thought had swept suddenly, in a gleam of light, across the
young man's mind, showing him the true nature of the principles from
which the merchant acted, and, for the moment, causing his whole
nature to revolt against them. But the light faded slowly; a state of
darkness and confusion followed, and then the old current of thought
moved on as before.
Slowly, and now with an attitude of deeper abstraction, moved the
young man backward and forward the entire length of the room, of
which he was the sole occupant. He felt that he was alone, that no
human eye could note a single movement. Of the all-seeing Eye he
thought not--his spirit's evil counsellors, drawn intimately nigh to him
through inclinations to evil, kept that consciousness from his mind.
At length Claire turned to the desk upon which were the account-books
that had been used during the day, and commenced turning the leaves
of one of them in a way that showed only a half-formed purpose. There
was an impulse to something in his mind; an impulse not yet expressed
in any form of thought, though in the progress toward something
definite.
"Fifty dollars a day!" he murmurs. Ah, that shows the direction of his
mind. He is still