"You promised me a rate of two cents and I went ahead with my business with that understanding.

What do you mean ?" S.Behrman and the clerk watched him from the other side of the counter.
"The rate is five cents," declared the clerk doggedly.
"Well, that ruins me," shouted Dyke.

"Do you understand?
I won't make fifty cents.

MAKE! Why, I will OWE,--I'll be--be--That ruins me, do you understand ?" The other, raised a shoulder.
"We don't force you to ship.

You can do as you like.