Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant, Jr. Horatio Alger [drm ebook reader TXT] 📗

“Two dollar!” repeated the Italian. “Ocielo! it is nothing. But Bettina is at home without bread, poor little one! Will you not give three dollar?”

“Not a cent more.”

“I will take it.”

“There's your money and ticket.”

And with these the poor Italian departed, giving one last lingering glance at his precious violin, as Eliakim took it roughly and deposited it upon a shelf behind him. But he thought of his little daughter at home, and the means of relief which he held in his hand, and a smile of joy lightened his melancholy features. The future might be dark and unpromising, but for three days, at any rate, she should not want bread.

Paul's turn came next.

“What have you got?” asked the pawnbroker.

Paul showed the ring.

Eliakim took it, and his small, beadlike eyes sparkled avariciously as he recognized the diamond, for his experience was such that he could form a tolerably correct estimate of its value. But he quickly suppressed all outward manifestations of interest, and said, indifferently, “What do you want for it?”

“I want twenty dollars,” said Paul, boldly.

“Twenty dollars!” returned the pawnbroker. “That's a joke.”

“No, it isn't,” said Paul. “I want twenty dollars, and you can't have the ring for less.”

“If you said twenty shillings, I might give it to you,” said Eliakim; “but you must think I am a fool to give twenty dollars.”

“That's cheap for a diamond ring,” said Paul. “It's worth a good deal more.”

The pawnbroker eyed Paul sharply. Did the boy know that it was a diamond ring? What chance was there of deceiving him as to its value? The old man, whose business made him a good judge, decided that the ring was not worth less than two hundred and fifty dollars, and if he could get it into his possession for a trifle, it would be a paying operation.

“You're mistaken, boy,” he said. “It's not a diamond.”

“What is it?”

“A very good imitation.”

“How much is it worth?”

“I'll give you three dollars.”

“That won't do. I want to raise twenty dollars, and if I can't get that, I'll keep the ring.”

The pawnbroker saw that he had made a mistake. Paul was not as much in need of money as the majority of his customers. He would rather pay twenty dollars than lose the bargain, though it went against the grain to pay so much money. But after pronouncing the stone an imitation, how could he rise much above the offer he had already made? He resolved to approach it gradually. Surveying it more closely, he said:

“It is an excellent imitation. I will give you five dollars.”

Paul was not without natural shrewdness, and this sudden advance convinced him that it was, after all, a real stone. He determined to get twenty dollars or carry the ring home.

“Five dollars won't do me any good,” he said. “Give me back the ring.”

“Five dollars is a good deal of money,” said Eliakim.

“I'd rather have the ring.”

“What is your lowest price?”

“Twenty dollars.”

“I'll give you eight.”

“Just now you said it was worth only three,” said Paul, sharply.

“It is very fine gold. It is better than I thought. Here is the money.”

“You're a little too fast,” said Paul, coolly. “I haven't agreed to part with the ring for eight dollars, and I don't mean to. Twenty dollars is my lowest price.”

“I'll give you ten,” said the old man, whose eagerness increased with Paul's indifference.

“No, you won't. Give me back the ring.”

“I might give eleven, but I should lose money.”

“I don't want you to lose money, and I've concluded to keep the ring,” said Paul, rightly inferring from the old man's eagerness that the ring was much more valuable than he had at first supposed.

But the old pawnbroker was fascinated by the sparkling bauble. He could not make up his mind to give it up. By fair means or foul he must possess it. He advanced his bid to twelve, fourteen, fifteen dollars, but Paul shook his head resolutely. He had made up his mind to carry it to Ball & Black's, or some other first-class jewelers, and ascertain whether it was a real diamond or not, and if so to obtain an estimate of its value.

“I've changed my mind,” he said. “I'll keep the ring. Just give it back to me.”