Dawson Black: Retail Merchant Part 10

Most fellows had fallen in line with the new plan of controlling credits, and I felt sure it would work out splendidly, although one old chap, Mr. Dawborn, had felt insulted (he owed me $18.75--and _still_ owes it, by the way) and said he refused to be card-indexed and checked up like a criminal being put through the third degree. He worked himself into a fine fit of fury, and bounced out of the store, saying that he would give Stigler all his trade in future.

I was so "rattled" that I forgot to ask him to pay his account before doing so!

The incident reminded me of something that La.r.s.en had told me about Stigler. He said that Stigler was talking about me and saying that I was a "smarty" and that it was about time somebody "slapped my wrist."

Stigler claimed that he would run me off my feet by Christmas.

I remember wishing his store was not so near. I could see it from the front of mine. I had noticed that, whenever he and I happened to meet he would say, "Howdy" in such a contemptuous manner that I felt like knocking his block off! Excuse my free and easy language, but I sure did hate that man!

I have interrupted my story just when I was recording the standing of my business at the first of the third month as nearly as I could estimate it.

Cash in bank, $1,920.00.

Accounts owing to me, $1,265.00.

Purchases for previous month, $4,220.00.

Bills I owed, $3,820.00.

I decided I must get hold of Jock McTavish, for there was something wrong in it all. I had had to get that stock, but I did not have enough in cash and accounts owing to me to pay all my trade bills.

However, I had until the 10th, and if I had a good week I would be pretty nearly all right; still I did feel a bit uncomfortable about owing so much more than I could pay right away, even though I had got a fine new stock of gardening tools, and a new line of carpenter and household tools, besides a new line in aluminum ware.

I understood that Stigler was mad because I had opened up in the carpenter tool line so much more than my predecessor had.

Jock had told me that I ought to reduce my stock and increase my sales.

I had increased my sales, but increased my stock also. Still, I had saved quite a lot in price by buying in large quant.i.ties, and, if the worst came to the worst, I could pay everybody but the Boston jobbers.

Bates & Hotchkin, to whom I owed nearly $2,000.00, had been very decent to me. They had sent their man to help me take stock and never charged me a cent. I had given them the bulk of my general business, and they had looked after me in great shape. I felt that they would give me an extra thirty-days credit if I asked for it, and I certainly would sooner ask them than any one else.

I studied the figures that evening until Betty came in and put her dear hands on my forehead and said, "How hot your head is, boy dear--are you worrying over anything in particular?" "No," I said with a smile.

"Well," she replied, "it is 12:30 and quite time you were getting some beauty sleep."

I said I was not worried, but I didn't like the size of my liabilities.

I began to think I had been a fool in buying so heavily.

The next morning I had a bit of excitement, with the result that I paid Myricks his money and let him go.

I had decided to adhere to the division of expenses that Jock had worked out, and that meant reducing the force. Accordingly, I had told Myricks that he could stay a few weeks until he got another job, and I meant it, but that morning, when I caught him in the bas.e.m.e.nt tossing lamp chimneys into the fixtures so carelessly that a number of them were broken, I got mad and told him he was an ungrateful scamp, and that I thought he was deliberately destroying my property. He turned around and said I had no cause to say he was a crook, and that, even if I was his boss, he had friends who would help him to protect his reputation!

Then I saw red, and plugged him under the jaw! Next I called him upstairs, gave him a week's money, and let him go.

His parting remark was, "Everybody's getting wise to you; I'm glad to be through before the smash comes. Mr. Stigler told me what would happen and I can get a job there now--and I'm going to him right away!"

It didn't scare me any--it merely aroused my fighting blood. There was one good lesson I learned that day, though, and that was, "Never to talk to an employee while in a temper." I felt that I had lowered my dignity by so doing; and, even though I had done him no harm, I certainly had not done myself any good.

I didn't like what he had said about Stigler, but if he thought it worried me he was mistaken. If Stigler was spoiling for a fight I'd give him one! . . .

I had begun to think that La.r.s.en was a pretty shrewd fellow; certainly when he did thaw enough to make a criticism it was generally worth listening to.

One day, Jerry Teller, a rather fussy carpenter who did excellent work, and who was always wanted when any extra fine work was desired, came in with a complaint that a back saw he had bought a week or so before was not perfect. I looked it over carefully, but couldn't see a thing the matter with it until Jerry pointed out a crack in the handle from the rivet to the back. It was such a trifling thing that I did not feel inclined to change it, besides, as I told him, how did I know it hadn't cracked since he had had it? He swore up and down that it was like that when he bought it, for he was too careful of his tools to damage them.

He demanded a new saw or his money back.

I told him the saw had become second-hand goods and that I didn't deal in second-hand goods. We had a lot of talk back and forth, but I was doing some tall thinking and finally decided that it was better to give him a new saw than to let him feel dissatisfied, so, somewhat against my will, I finally gave him a new saw. But it didn't seem to please him, for he left the store still grumbling about the way I tried to "put it over him."

La.r.s.en had been watching the whole incident, so, after Jerry left the store I turned to La.r.s.en and said, "There's no satisfying some people, La.r.s.en."

"You no try to satisfy him much, eh, boss?" he replied.

"What do you mean?" said I.

"Say I come to the store. You kicked up a fuss. Then you change the saw.

I don't feel pleased. Yet you give me a new saw," he answered.

And then I saw the light! Great guns, what a fool I was! I didn't seem to know the first thing about business. Ever since I got the store my life seemed to have been a series of doing things wrong. And it took La.r.s.en to show me a mistake!

I turned to him and said, "Thank you, La.r.s.en; you are right; I appreciate your frankness." Then I held out my hand to him, which he shook awkwardly, and said, "That's all right, boss; I am still learning; you are still learning--thank you."

I was beginning to like La.r.s.en!

One thing I then and there resolved to do was this: If any one came in with a complaint of any kind, I was going to let him have his say and get it off his chest. Then, instead of arguing with him as to what I should do, I would turn around and say: "I am very sorry you are not quite satisfied with that article, for I can't afford to have any one leave this store feeling dissatisfied. Now, if you will tell me just what you want me to do to satisfy you, I'll do it." Then, whatever he said, even if it meant a direct loss to me, I'd do what he wanted with a smile. I'd not appear suspicious of him, but treat him in such a way that he'd feel pleased.

CHAPTER XII

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

My sales for the next two weeks fell to an average of $328.00--but, thank goodness, less than $50.00 of the whole were charge accounts!

The plan of making people state how much credit they wanted seemed to be working out well. The deadbeats flew up in the air and said they wouldn't do business with any one that wanted their pedigree before allowing them to buy goods, but the worthwhile ones saw the reasonableness of the request and fell in line with it.

I believed that, while my sales were down 25 per cent., I would be better off in the end, for what I had left I believed was real business.

That is, I would be better off if I could only stick it out.

Soon after the first of the month I paid off all my creditors except Bates & Hotchkin, the Boston jobbing house with which I did the bulk of my business. I wrote them a letter saying that I had overbought, and told them that, as they were the largest creditor, I had paid the others and would send them a check as soon as I could. They had always been so decent I didn't expect any trouble at all, and what was my surprise the next day to have a Mr. Peck call on me and tell me that he was the credit man for Bates & Hotchkin!

"Glad to see you," I said, although mentally I was not at all glad to see him. I had a feeling as if d.i.c.ky birds were walking up and down my spine. "What can I do for you?"

For reply he handed me a statement of their account, the amount of which was $1,079.00.

"Oh," said I, "I wrote you about this yesterday."

"I know," said Peck calmly. "I'm the answer to your letter. I have come for a check."

"But I told you," I replied, rather irritably, "that I couldn't give it to you just now, and that you would have to wait a little!"

"Mr. Black," he returned, "will you tell me if there is any reason why we should wait for our money when you pay every one else?" His voice retained its even tone.