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Dawson Black: Retail Merchant Part 19

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"Don't do it!" I replied sharply. "Ring up every sale as you make it!"

We were too busy to dispense with him then, but I wondered--I wondered--

When we closed the store Tuesday no more goods were left! The sales that day had been $427.00.

Of course when I say there were no more goods left, I mean there were perhaps thirty or forty odd items left, but I was certain that they would be all sold out the next day.

The total for the sale had been $1,517.00. My advertising had cost me $127.00, so that my net cash from the sale was $1,390.00. That showed me a cash profit of $24.00. But, gee whiz!--didn't that bank account look good!

I planned to take up that note of $1,000.00 at the bank, right away. It would seem good to get rid of that. And I was going to Barrington and pay $250.00 on that $1,250.00 loan for which he had taken a mortgage on my farm.

Gosh, it did seem good to have some money, although after I had taken $1,250.00 from $1,390.00, there wouldn't be much real cash left. Still, I hadn't been buying much, and my bills were unusually small that month.

When I got home I rushed into the house, took hold of Betty and swung her around several times, and sang my little song--"Half-price day is over and no more goods are left!" We behaved like a couple of kids.

She thought I would be making a mistake to pay off that thousand dollars at the bank. She thought I ought to leave $500.00 of it, for she said I wouldn't have enough money to pay my month's bills and would have to borrow again.

"Well, they'll let me do it, if necessary," I said; "and besides, I'm not paying interest on what I am not borrowing."

"Perhaps you're right," she said with a laugh, "and now come and get your dinner."

Dinner, at 10:30 at night! However, what's meal time when you're busy?

How I pitied those poor fellows who don't get heart and soul into their work. Time surely does fly when you do! What a shirker I had been when I had worked for Barlow! The days had seemed long then.

I gave all my fellows a special bonus that week for the work they had done. I gave La.r.s.en $10.00, Jones $6.00 and Wilkes $3.00--that is, an extra half week's pay.

Myricks had gone. In spite of being busy I had gotten rid of him that Tuesday. I had caught him again putting money in his pocket, and Mr.

Pinkham, who bought a saw, also told me that he had noticed Myricks didn't ring up the money.

I had kept my eye on Myricks, and then, when there was a little lull in trade, I had called him into my little office and ordered him to turn out his pockets.

"What's that for?" he asked impudently.

"I want to see how much money you have got there," I said.

"I don't see that it's anybody's business what money I have got in my pockets," he replied.

"Well, it has something to do with me," I returned sternly, "for you told me yesterday you were carrying my money in your pockets. Now, I insist on knowing what you have got in your pockets."

"All I've got is money of my own, and I don't see that it's any of your business!"

"You are going to turn out your pockets before you leave this office," I said angrily. My voice was raised and the others in the store were gazing in our direction. "If not, I'll call a policeman."

"Call him in and be d.a.m.ned," he said, and he struck at me.

I lost my temper, and for once I was glad of it, for I landed on him and hit him fair and square under the jaw. He fell against the desk, upsetting a vase full of flowers that Betty had put there. He got up, holding his head, and blood was trickling from a cut in his cheek where he had caught the edge of the desk.

I was so raging mad that I was prepared for almost anything.

"Now, d.a.m.n you!" I said with a snarl, "turn out your pockets _quick_!"

He did so, and I found $37.00 there.

"It's my money," he said surlily. "It's my money! You touch that money and I'll have the law on you!"

I picked up the money, put it in my pocket, and said:

"Now, I'll give you just five minutes to get clear out of my sight!

Before you go, let me tell you that customers have seen you putting money in your pocket, and I have seen you also. Just let me have one peep from you, now or any other time, and I'll have you in jail! Now, beat it!"

I opened the door and he slunk out.

"I'll get you yet," he growled as he left.

I had lost my temper, I knew I had; but I was mighty glad I had; for I felt if I hadn't I wouldn't have given him the lesson he deserved. And incidentally, I had learned another lesson, and that is, never rehire a discharged employee. Then and there I determined that, so long as I was in business, if an employee ever left me for any reason whatever, I would never reinstate him. He would be through forever.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I WAS SO RAGING MAD THAT I WAS PREPARED FOR ALMOST ANYTHING"]

When I got home that night, Betty remarked:

"Why, look at the knuckles on your hand! They have blood on them! What have you done?"

"Oh, I just knocked into the cash register $37.00 which was walking out of the door," I returned jauntily. And then I told her the whole story.

She came over and kissed me and said:

"Good boy!" and her eyes flashed as she said it. "I'm proud of you!"

Those four words meant more to me than the success of this sale.

Betty and I went to Boston the next day. I wanted to call at Bates & Hotchkin's to buy a few things I needed, and also I wanted to call on Mr. Barker, to whom Mr. Sirle had given me a card of introduction some time ago. I intended that we should have a nice little dinner, and take in a show and stay at a good hotel for the night and come back the next day. All by way of celebration.

"You are an extravagant man," said Betty severely when I told her this.

"What train do we leave by? I'll be ready."

CHAPTER XIX

A TRIP TO BOSTON

We had a great time in Boston. In the evening we went to see "Pollyanna"

and I told Betty I had fallen in love with Patricia Collinge.

"I'll get jealous," she said, and squeezed my arm.

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Dawson Black: Retail Merchant Part 19 summary

You're reading Dawson Black: Retail Merchant. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Harold Whitehead. Already has 532 views.

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