“It didn’t require much heroism,” said Frank, smiling.

“Tell us all about it, at any rate.”

Frank told the story as simply as he could, much to the satisfaction of the company.

“You’ll come in for a handsome reward, when Mr. Percival gets home,” suggested Mr. Smith.

“I don’t expect anything,” said Frank.  “I shall be satisfied if I get the dollar which was promised me.  I haven’t received that yet.”

“I wish I were in your shoes—­that’s all I’ve got to say,” said Preston, nodding vigorously.  “Will you sell out for five dollars?”

“Cash down?” asked Frank, smiling.

“Well, I’ll give you my note at thirty days,” said the Sixth Avenue salesman, who seldom kept five dollars in advance of his liabilities.

“I won’t sell what I haven’t got,” said Frank.  “Probably I shall hear nothing from Mr. Percival.”

After breakfast Frank went downtown and sought the store of the Great Pekin Company.

After half an hour’s delay—­for there were others in advance of him—­he was fitted out with samples and started for Brooklyn.

It was his first visit to that city, but he had received some directions which made his expedition less embarrassing.

At the ferry he took a Flatbush Avenue car, and rode up Fulton Street, and past the City Hall, up Fulton Avenue, for nearly a mile.

Here were interesting streets, lined with comfortable houses—­for Frank had made up his mind first to try private houses.  He had with him a few pound parcels of tea, which he thought he could perhaps succeed in disposing of at such places.

He selected a house at random, and rang the bell.

A servant answered the ring.

Frank felt rather embarrassed, but there was no time to hesitate.

“I have some samples of tea with me,” he began, “of excellent quality and at reasonable prices.”

“It’s no use,” said the girl, abruptly.  “We never buy of peddlers,” and she closed the door in his face.

“Not a very good beginning,” thought Frank, rather mortified.  “So I am a peddler,” he said to himself, and he called to mind the agents and peddlers who in past years had called at the Cedars.

With some compunction, he remembered that he had regarded them with some contempt as traveling nuisances.  Now he had entered the ranks of this despised class, and he began to see that they might be perfectly respectable, and were estimable persons, animated by a praiseworthy desire to make an honest living.

Thus thinking, he called at another door.

It was opened, not by a servant, but by an elderly maiden lady, who had rather a weakness for bargains.

“I’ve got some nice tea,” said Frank, “which I should like to sell you.  It is put up by the Great Pekin Company.”

“Are you sure it’s nice?” asked the elderly lady.  “We’ve been getting ours at the grocery store on the avenue, and the last wasn’t very good.”