Frank had hurried up to get the day off he now promised himself. There had been so much to do. Even now he was due in the city to talk over a proposition with a big manufacturer there, this gentleman offered to furnish Frank free an eight-page illustrated insert for his catalogue and special buying terms, if he would push the goods actively.
The loss of the mailing lists had been severely felt at first. Mrs. Ismond's bright wits, however, had quite solved that difficulty. She continued to send out circulars from the country papers that were exchanges on the Pleasantville Herald list.
"The business is growing fast," reflected Frank. "Those who buy once, very often write for some article I haven't got in stock. Why not run a special purchasing department? It looks very much as if this business will some day run into a great big mail order house, selling everything and having a warehouse of its own. Hold on, son—what's the hurry?"
A bareheaded, wild-eyed youngster turning a corner had bolted into Frank with considerable force. Frank grabbed him quickly and swung to a rebound poise, or both might have measured their length on the walk.
"The very—fellow I—was after!" panted the urchin in a gasp.
