Then he startled to realize on his credit.

The Portuguese grocer, to whom he had hitherto paid cash, called a halt when Martin's bill reached the magnificent total of three dollars and eighty-five cents.
"For you see," said the grocer, "you no catcha da work, I losa da mon'." And Martin could reply nothing.

There was no way of explaining.

It was not true business principle to allow credit to a strong-bodied young fellow of the working-class who was too lazy to work.
"You catcha da job, I let you have mora da grub," the grocer assured Martin.

"No job, no grub.