“You’ll have to sweep out; only look sharp about raising a dust, or Smith’ll be into your wool.”

“What sort of a man is Mr. Smith?” asked Paul, with some curiosity.

“O, he’s an out and outer.  Sharp as a steel trap.  He’ll make you toe the mark.”

“Do you like him?” asked Paul, not quite sure whether he understood his employer’s character from the description.

“I don’t like him well enough to advise any of my folks to trade with him,” said Mr. Benton.

“Why not?”

“He’d cheat ’em out of their eye teeth if they happened to have any,” said the young man coolly, beginning to pick his teeth with a knife.

Paul began to doubt whether he should like Mr. Smith.

“I say,” said Mr. Benton after a pause, “have you begun to shave yet?”

Paul looked up to see if his companion were in earnest.

“No,” said he; “I haven’t got along as far as that.  Have you?”

“I,” repeated the young man, a little contemptuously, “of course I have.  I’ve shaved for a year and a half.”

“Do you find it hard shaving?” asked Paul, a little slyly.

“Well, my beard is rather stiff,” said the late boy, with an important air, “but I’ve got used to it.”

“Ain’t you rather young to shave, Nicholas?” asked Paul.

“Mr. Benton, if you please.”

“I mean, Mr. Benton.”

“Perhaps I was when I begun.  But now I am nineteen.”

“Nineteen?”

“Yes, that is to say, I’m within a few months of being nineteen.  What do you think of my moustache?”

“I hadn’t noticed it.”

“The store’s rather dark,” muttered Mr. Benton, who seemed a little annoyed by this answer.  “If you’ll come a little nearer you can see it.”

Drawing near, Paul, after some trouble, descried a few scattering hairs.

“Yes,” said he, wanting to laugh, “I see it.”

“Coming on finely, isn’t it?” asked Mr. Nicholas Benton, complacently.

“Yes,” said Paul, rather doubtfully.

“I don’t mind letting you into a secret,” said Benton, affably, “if you won’t mention it.  I’ve been using some of the six weeks’ stuff.”

“The what?” asked Paul, opening his eyes.

“Haven’t you heard of it?” inquired Benton, a little contemptuously.  “Where have you been living all your life?  Haven’t you seen it advertised,—­warranted to produce a full set of whiskers or moustaches upon the smoothest face, etc.  I got some a week ago, only a dollar.  Five weeks from now you’ll see something that’ll astonish you.”

Paul was not a little amused by his new companion, and would have laughed, but that he feared to offend him.

“You’d better get some,” said Mr. Benton.  “I’ll let you just try mine once, if you want to.”

“Thank you,” said Paul; “I don’t think I want to have a moustache just yet.”

“Well, perhaps you’re right.  Being a boy, perhaps it wouldn’t be advisable.”