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MAIL ORDER FRANK
ing the lists of names and the mail order routing cards.
The hardware man listened in a bored, impatient way.
"Don't want any of the truck," he said. "Burn it up, do what you want with it. Get that freight on to me quick as you can, Newton. Buckner here will settle your bill for services. Goodbye."
Frank Newton stood like one in a dream after his visitors had departed.
A great wave of hope, ambition, the grandest anticipations filled his mind.
"Mine!" he said, passing slowly from heap to heap consigned to him as a free gift. "Mine," he repeated, his hand resting on the zinc box. "At least fifty dollars in cash out of the work I have done, and the basis of a regular business in what that man has given me. Oh, what a royal start!"
