Dawson Black: Retail Merchant Part 32

La.r.s.en the protection for his old age that he has so thoroughly earned."

Mrs. La.r.s.en was completely won over, and, to my surprise, she burst out crying bitterly. Betty quietly put her arm around her waist and led her upstairs. They came down in a few minutes, Mrs. La.r.s.en red-eyed, but smiling; and we immediately started the question of handling toys for Christmas. The women were all strongly in favor of it, so we decided to have toys for Christmas.

I didn't know the first thing about toys; I didn't know where to buy them; I didn't know what we ought to sell. But, as we were going to sell them, I hoped that my luck would be with me.

After they had gone Betty told me that Mrs. La.r.s.en had said, when they were upstairs, that she had been urging La.r.s.en to find another job, as she felt he wouldn't make any progress with me.

"Perhaps that's why he has looked worried sometimes lately, and hasn't seemed to work with the same delight that he did when I first bought the business," I said.

And then it was that Betty had put her hands to her hips, c.o.c.ked her head impishly one side, and thrown her taunt at me: "Well, what have you to say now?"

CHAPTER XXVIII

GETTING NEW BUSINESS

The next day, I wrote to Hersom, the salesman for Bates & Hotchkin, and asked him to give me the names of one or two good firms from whom to buy toys. I had just mailed the letter when he came into the store.

He was a nice fellow, was Hersom, and I had found that, whenever I left anything to him, he gave me a square deal. Indeed, he had got so that he was almost one of the family when he got inside the place. He gave me the names of two New York concerns, the manager of one of which he said he knew personally, and to him he gave me a letter of introduction.

I decided that Betty and I would go to New York the next week and pick out a stock of toys. We would plunge on a hundred dollars'

worth--perhaps a little more--and see what happened.

After I had found out a little about selling the Cincinnati pencil sharpener, with the aid of the selling manual which the company had given me, I had pa.s.sed it on to La.r.s.en, and he had studied it for a week or two, and then, one Thursday afternoon, he had gone calling on the business men of the town, other than the store-keepers. He sold only one sharpener the first afternoon, but he had a request for a pocketknife, which we delivered the next day. The next Thursday he went out again. To my surprise he didn't sell a single pencil sharpener, but he came back with an order for a Middle's razor and a stick of shaving soap, and also brought in eighteen safety razor blades to be sharpened, and two of the regular kind of razors to be honed!

Of course we did not sell soap and I asked La.r.s.en why he had taken an order for it. His reply was:

"Look here, Boss, let's do it. He wanted it, and it'll please him. He then give us more trade."

"But what about the razor blades? We can't sharpen those here."

"Up to Bolton is a drug store with a machine for sharpening 'em. It's only eleven miles away. I go there and fix up for them to do it for us.

We can get lots of business for it."

Well, I let him do it, and we put a little notice in our window that safety razor blades would be sharpened, and razors honed, in forty-eight hours. We made only ten cents on a dozen blades, but, as La.r.s.en said, and I believed he was right, we were obliging the customers; and even if we didn't make anything out of it it would pay us on account of the good-will we would build up.

La.r.s.en had shocked me very much the same day by saying that he thought we ought to stock shaving soap and talc.u.m powder, and bay rum, and such stuff. I had told him I couldn't stand for a thing like that--we'd have Traglio the druggist down on us.

"Traglio?" replied La.r.s.en. "Say, Boss, you never been mad at him for selling razors? Nor for selling mirrors?"

"Oh, well, we don't sell shaving mirrors."

"Hum. I know we don't, but we oughter. What about him selling shaving brushes? That's a line we got. I think we oughter please customers and not bother about old Traglio."

Finally I had allowed him to buy twenty-five dollars' worth of shaving sundries--in fact, I had told him to look after that stock himself.

Well, since then, old La.r.s.en had looked upon his little stock of shaving accessories as if it were an orphan which he had adopted. I thought he spent too much time in pushing the sale of shaving sticks, and bay rum, and witch hazel, but his twenty-five dollars' worth of stock rose to over sixty dollars and we built up quite a nice little sale for it.

Strange to say, very little of it was sold in the store; for every Thursday La.r.s.en visited his "trade," as he called it. He went around to his different people once a month. He had about sixty people he called on, all told--an average of fifteen each Thursday afternoon. In three months he had brought to us over twenty charge accounts, and charge accounts with the best people in town, too, through calling on the husband at his place of business, and getting the wife to visit our store.

He would come back with all kinds of strange requests and orders. Once he brought a request that we send a man to repair a broken window sash.

We hadn't any one who could do that, so I telephoned to Peter Bender to go down there and repair it and charge it to me. Peter seemed quite tickled to think that I had got him some business. I told Peter that they were charge customers of ours, and that, as they never paid cash, I'd pay him and collect it on my regular bill, which satisfied Peter very well, because he never kept books.

He went down and did the job and turned me in a bill of $2.25. I paid it and charged it to Mr. Sturtevant at the same price. I made nothing out of it, but I surely did please that customer, for Mrs. Sturtevant dropped into the store to make some little purchase and told me about it. She remarked she didn't know we had a carpenter department. I told her I hadn't, but, as she had wanted the job done, I had telephoned Bender to go and do it and charge it up to me.

"Bender charged me $2.25," I said, "and of course I charged you only just that amount, for I don't want to make any profit on little jobs like that. It is merely an accommodation to my customers."

"I haven't bought much from your store before," she said.

"That's my misfortune," I returned with a laugh.

"You merely did that so as to put me in the position of having to deal with you, is that it?"

"Not at all. But your husband asked Mr. La.r.s.en, when he called on him, if he could see to it for him, and we were only too glad to do so.

Naturally, we are anxious for your patronage. You know, Mrs. Sturtevant, that's what we are in business for."

She seemed satisfied with that explanation. As she was leaving the store, she remarked:

"Mr. Black, if either of the maids or the chauffeur come here for goods, please don't deliver anything unless they have a written order. I have decided to stop trading with Mr. Stigler, because I think his bills are too high. Do you think Mr. Stigler is a fair man?" still with her hand on the doork.n.o.b.

Fancy asking me that question! As though I could possibly do justice to my feelings about Stigler in the presence of a lady. I was about to say, in the politest manner possible, that I thought him the dirtiest, meanest hound in the town, when I caught La.r.s.en shaking his head, with a warning look in his eye, and then I realized the folly of what I had been about to do.

"I think Mr. Stigler is a pretty good man, so far as I know," I said, "but, of course, we don't see much of each other."

"I understand you fight each other a lot?" she asked.

"Oh, no, not at all."

"Mr. Stigler seemed quite provoked about you. I was telling my husband about it."

"What did he say?" I asked with a smile.

"He said that, when a man disparaged his compet.i.tor, he preferred to trade with the compet.i.tor!"

With that she left the store. I think she wanted to convey to me, without directly telling me so, that that was partly the reason she had decided not to trade with Stigler any more! And to think of the fool I was about to make of myself! When you come to think of it, it _is_ bad business to speak ill of your compet.i.tor. Fortunately, I learned that lesson without having to pay for it.

Betty and I went to New York on a Sunday, slept there Sunday night, and the first thing Monday morning, at Betty's suggestion, we went up to the office of _Hardware Times_. There we found Mr. Sirle. He was a wonder, that man. He knew my name right off, for he came right up and shook hands with me, saying: "Is this Mrs. Black?" whereupon I introduced him to Betty. Some pleasantries followed, and he led us into his office.

"Well," said Mr. Sirle, "are you in New York on business, or is this just a pleasure trip?"

"It's supposed to be a business trip," I replied.

"I see," he returned, "a business trip with a little pleasure on the side."

"Yes," said I, "in spite of having brought the wife with me."

"Shall I throw him out of the window?" said Mr. Sirle, turning to Betty.