I i 9 />*« " Cletoer pusrtne&s feetrfje* ( J PUBLISHED BY Detroit, Mtbwn, W. &. %L 1910 .1 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1909, by The Business Man's Publishing Company, Ltd detroit, michigan, In the office of the Librarian of Congress. All rights reserved. INTRODUCTION This volume makes no pretense for high literary- honors. Just a few short business stories, each with a moral, if you will seek it ; done into book form for the enter- tainment of the reader. If after you have passed a busy day indoors or afield you will turn to the pages of this little volume, we are sure that you will experience a certain degree of satisfaction which is derived from the lighter things in life. We have tried in our compilation to make the stories as varied as possible and all of interest to the business man. If this volume succeeds in giving you a few mo- ments' entertainment, we shall feel that our efforts have been well spent. The Business Man's Publishing Co., Ltd. CONTENTS PAGE The Lure of the Unspoken Word 7 By Charlton Lawrence Edholm The Business Spy 17 By F. B. Linton The Striped Tourists 28 By Montague Glass Bill Sickles — Lazy Man (Illustrated) 34 By Edward Blomeyer The Truth Prevails in Shadyville (Illustrated) 43 By Edward Blomeyer The Progress of a Gentleman 54 By George Mahon The Bookkeeper: His Accuracy (Illustrated) . . 75 By Elwood S. Brown The Phantom Bookkeeper 85 By Charles A. Sweetland John Davis, Manager, and the New President's Policy 93 By F. B. Linton The Strange Case of Clement Zent (Illus- trated) 102 By George Rockhill Craw The Promoter : His Genius 137 By Elwood S. Brown Brothers 145 By S. Roland Hall Celestine and Coralie 151 By Montague Glass Ahead of Date 157 By Edward Blomeyer John Hake, Business Gambler 165 By B. P. Owie The Strike at La Place's 176 By Edgar Matthew Keator Driver of the Band Wagon 182 By J. E. Brown The Sixth Floor Elephants 187 By Edgar Dayton Price Mixing the Grades 196 By M. W. Foshay The Trapping of Bomb-Proof Smith 204 By Edgar Dayton Price Stover, the Resourceful 212 By Lincoln M. Stearns The Best Policy after All 220 By W. W. Woodbridge How Jack Closed the Deal 225 By Edgar Dayton Price The Sticker 231 By Edgar Dayton Price The Wyandotte Shares 241 By Edgar Dayton Price *"£he Lure of Che Uv spoken Word" THE LURE OF THE UNSPOKEN WORD. BY CHARLTON LAWRENCE EDHOLM. It was in the good old wide-open days of San Fran- ciseo before the earth — fire, I should say — when Grant avenue was the stamping ground of innumerable fa- kirs, operating, it was charged, cum permissu superio- rum. The editor and proprietor of the late unla- mented Rinkey-Dink Monthly and its Minor Poet and general literary hack, Mr. Oscar Algernon Botts, were strolling along that thoroughfare one Saturday eve- ning, discussing such widely varying themes as "Lit- erature" and "Making the Magazine Pay." The Minor Poet's ideal was as high as the apart- ments he occupied when at home, likewise a trifle vague and shadowy, resembling his weekly promises to the landlady. Mr. Botts 's theory was that there is no melody like that of the song unsung, no power like that of the unspoken word; in plain terms, that the ideas which were suggested rather than affirmed, wielded the greater influence. "I see your point," said the editor. "What you are trying to say has already been set in cold type. If you will examine your rejection slips you will ob- serve that it is the unavailable manuscripts which possess the literary merit, that quality so ardently cov- eted by the novice." "Well, that is a fact !" exclaimed the M. P. warmly, "although it is not the point I am trying to make. My idea is that a hint is more alluring than a definite promise, just as a promise is more alluring than the reality. ' ' "Are you trying to say that an unpaid subscription on the books is a more beautiful thing to contemplate than a 'Please find check herewith'?" Oh, pshaw, it 's just like you always to try to mix your business with literature ! Now, look here : I will 7 8 Clever Business Sketches show you a man who is at this very moment turning my theory into cash, though I'll admit that he never works twice in the same town. I saw him last week in San Jose, at the Street Fair. If you'll stop about twenty minutes and listen to him, I 'm convinced that even your dull and literal mind will grasp my beau- tiful theory of the lure of the word unuttered, the song unsung, the promise unmade and therefore never to be broken." Above the clatter and clang of cable cars on Market street and the myriad-voiced chatter of the Saturday night crowd, the editor and Minor Poet heard a clear, strident intonation that had the drawing quality of a magnet. Mr. Botts, forgetting that he was a master of English, exclaimed, "That's him!" As they approached the corner, where a flaring gas- oline torch threw its glare on a hundred or more up- turned faces, the possessor of the magnetic voice stood revealed above the mob, a middle-aged man, dressed in quiet gray tweeds and spotless linen, a soft pearl colored hat on his cropped head. His heavy grizzled mustache was ruthlessly stubbed over thin lips to that scrubbing-brush effect which has replaced the flowing and elegant side whiskers in the circles of high finance. His features were forceful ; eyes cold gray and alert, a prominent cleft chin, a well formed aquiline nose and, at each nostril, those deeply graven lines, unmistakable autograph of a sneer. Until he opened his mouth to speak, one might readily take him for a gentleman. "Now, gents," he was saying, "I want you to ob- serve that I have here four of these mysterious little red boxes, contents unknown, and four playing cards, which I will not conceal, just to prove that everything is open and above board. As you see, they are the Jack of Spades, the King and Queen of the same suite, and the Joker. Now I want four gents in this audi- ence to buy these four boxes containing — there, I nearly let it out ! I'll just remark that it's one of the greatest inventions of science, — I generally sell them at one dollar sixty-five, but tonight they are going at The Lure of the Unspoken Word 9 four bits apiece just to interdooce the goods, — and the first four sports that speculates are going to gel a big prize. Step up, gents, and show your sporting blood. Who's a game one? Ah, thank you, sir; thank you, thank you, thank you, sir!" Four bored looking "gents," very different in su- perficial appearance, but all with the indefinable ear- marks of the capper, had elbowed their way from the edge of the erowd to the speaker and passed up their money. Two of them paid with double eagles which were changed with scrupulous accuracy. "The four gents as have proved their sporting blood will now observe what I do. Here is the Queen of Spades; I tear the card in half, one half I give to this here gent what took the first box ; the other half I lay on the table before me and on it I place his purchase, an' on top o' that I lay this here for-bit piece, the same as the gent passed me, and on it, look! look ! ! look ! ! ! — I lay a bright, new silver dollar, fresh from the mint. I do the same by the other three sports; each man's half gets a whole dollar of mine to top it and eveiy time he buys or purchases one of these here little red boxes I place another cartwheel on his half card. 1 ' Hey, you ; don 't throw that piece of card away ! It may be worth big money to you." "Now, gents, do you want another box apiece, or shall I deal another hand?" Three of the buyers hastily doubled their invest- ment and the thick set one with a bulbous nose, heavy mustache and puffy pouches under the eyes, took four at a time and saw his four halves capped by four shining dollars. "J. P. Morgan never lets a good thing get past him," commented the merchant of red boxes, making change. "Here's your money; ten, fifteen and three is eighteen. Remember me to Charley Swab next time you see him." The crowd grinned at this, but the capper solemnly counted his change and pocketed it. "Say, this is easy money, ' ' he remarked to a dapper little counter- 10 Clever Business Sketches "The Black-faced Comedian smote his banjo, and sang with a rollicking voice ' ' jumper whose pale blue eyes had gulped down the proceeding. ' ' You want-a break into the next hand 1 ' The little clerk had thought of doing so, and the ad- vice of the elderly financier decided him. When the ace, deuce, tray and ten-spot were spread out, each with its little red box, he passed up two quarters which he had extracted from a flat purse. A laborer drew a half-dollar from an old tobacco sack and a couple of The Lure of the Unspoken Word 11 other "game ones" invested a fourth of their day's wage and had the joy of seeing the bright new dollar crown their investment. They clutched their half- cards with a feverish grip for fear some one might de- prive them of their gains. The pick-and-shovel man carefully folded his, stuffed it into the greasy tobacco pouch and kept his hands in the pocket where it rested. No pickpockets for him ! No, sir! lie had lost money that way once. Well, gents, who's next, who's next, who's next, who's next? Them 'at ain't next want-a get next, for I ain't going to give away the firms' money all night. Yes, sir, the firm I represent gives me a thousand dollars as a premium to interdooce the contents of these little red boxes in this city. But the contract is that they only goes to sports. You fellows that ain't got sporting blood might as well leave right now; I'm looking for speculators, not spectators. Step up, gents, I'm dealing another hand. Thank you, sir, thank you, thank you, — and now, one more? Ah, here you are, sir. Two, did you say? Here, don't forget your change ; 1 don't want anything but what's coming to me. The firm pays me a liberal salary and I don't have to knock down change, thank God!" After half a dozen hands had been dealt, the port- able table was covered with fragments of cards, little red boxes and piles of glittering coin, when the pro- moter of speculation for sports announced: "Well, gents, here are twenty-four half cards, worth all the way from a dollar and a half to twenty dollars. Now I want to see the good right hand of each purchaser so I'll know they're all here. Hold up your hands to be counted; don't be bashful; what if they are stained with honest toil! I tell you the grimy hand of the workingman sustains the world! One, two, three, — seven — eighteen — twenty-four; that's right; twenty-four strong, right hands that kings and em- perors might be proud to grasp ! "Now you twenty-four dead game sports are the only wise ones in the crowd, 'cause nobody else is going to break in on this tonight, nobody but one, 12 Clever Business Sketches that is, for there's luck in odd numbers. Who is go- ing to make the lucky twenty-fifth .' I lay a gold eagle on his half card and ask once more, who is the lucky man that buys this last little red box with its mys- terious contents?" A pimply youth in a lavender tie and imitation Panama and a swagger ten-dollar suit pushed for- ward eagerly, extending a half dollar. 'Hold on, young man, it takes a dollar to buy this box," remarked the captain of finance. The youth produced two additional quarters with nervous haste, lest the golden opportunity should be snatched from his grasp. "I don't know as I'm obliged to take small change," said the promoter, eyeing him severely. What do you mean by shoving these gents in that disgraceful way? Where 'd you learn such manners? You don't seem to have no refinery!" "I j-just wanted to buy a box," gasped the discon- certed youth. "You do, do yon! Well, just keep your shirt on. liefore selling you anything 1 'in going to learn you a little culcher right here and now. Say, 'Please*?' " "Please." 'I'lease-sell-me-a-box," continued the instructor in culture-while-yon- wait. " I '-please, sir, sell me a box, please!" implored the youth, his eyes on the gold piece. 'Well, gents, you ;ill heard him say 'please,' and so to oblige him I'm going to sell him a box. Here's your card, kiddo; mind you, don't let nobody swipe it off you. ' ' "Now' all you twenty-five wise ones are requested to double your sf;ikes. Of course you don't have to; there's no obligation; anybody that's gol cold feel can Like his purchase and toddle home to bed. That's the best place for <|iii1lers, but 1 have a feeling that the twenty-five hot sports in this crowd are going to stay by the game." About twenty responded with the coin; throe or four slunk away; one fussy little man with sideburns and an arm full of bundles demanded his box, and got The Lure of the Unspoken Ward 1 3 it. To his speechless indication, he go1 nothing else but the contents, a spherical piece of glass something like the stopper of a perfume bottle The enclosed cir- cular designated this live-cent article as a "Noncom- plex Microscope," the mightiest invention of science. In spite of this glowing description he seemed to feel that he had not received his money's worth, but he got no sympathy from the crowd which had not the least fellow-feeling for "quitters." The youth with the swagger suit had found three more quarters and borrowed a fourth from a friend to double his stake. "I do hate to handle this dirty silver!" sighed the promoter of clean sport, whereupon he deliberately washed his hands from a bottle of wine on the table and afterwards refreshed his throat therefrom. "Fil- thy lucre, filthy lucre! Why, you know, it's just full of germs and parasites!" he protested, as he care- lessly swept a few glittering piles into the table drawer. "I risk my life every time I take it off of you. Up with your hands, you guys with the cards ! ' ' he suddenly commanded. "Whew! put 'em down quick. No wonder the coin is so dirty. It's worse than John D.'s tainted money ! What's the matter, ain't they no water in your town ? " The non-investors guffawed heartily at this sally, and the proud "sports" looked sheepish and uneasy, but no protest was raised as a couple more handfuls of silver slipped into the drawer. "Now, gents," continued the genial captain of finance, ' ' I have a few other things to show you before I distribute the purchases and your free-prizes, gifts or premiums that go with each box, after which Profes- sor Pinkley of Pillville and black-faced assistant will endeavor to amuse you. Exhibit A is this here little joker, which, as a traveler, I'm permitted by my friend at police headquarters to carry for purposes of self-defense. It's a beauty all right, in perfect work- ing order, a hammerless six-shooter with a hair trig- ger. It contains six capital prizes — for soreheads only. Exhibit B is these here beautiful and artistic solid silver teaspoons, one of which goes as a premium 14 Clever Business Sketches with each purchase. Each good little man presents his card of identification and gets his prize. Here you are, sir, three boxes for you and three spoons, solid silver plate. Here's your's the Jack of Diamonds takes six little red boxes and six spoons, or half a dozen, every one of them solid German-silver plate, warranted not to rust, turn green, wear out nor lose their luster if kept perfectly dry and not removed from their wrappings." By this time the little piles of gold and silver had all vanished and only the little red boxes and the solid German-silverine-plated spoons remained in sight. The shiny butt of the gun was just visible, peeping coyly from his coat pocket. It made any protest seem narrow-minded, unsportsmanlike and niggardly. At any rate none was made. "Here you are, sir, Jack of Spades for yours, twelve boxes and a free gift of a dozen elegant spoons fit for the table of the Czar,— no, don't mind thanking me; the pleasures' all mine. Be sure to tell Charley Swab you saw me. And now, gents, 1 thank you one and all for your kind attention to my lecture and will make way for Professor Pinkley, patentee of Pinkley's Pink Peilets, the Tills that made Pillville famous. His sweet-voiced singer from the Sunny Southland will now entertain you." And, deftly flapping together his portable table, which folded into something like a suit case, the hu- man dollar-magnet stepped into a waiting buggy and drove rapidly away, the jingle of "easy money" grow- ing fainter and fainter to the ears of the "dead game sports." The blaek-faced comedian in the service of Professor Pinkley of Pillville, smote his banjo and sang with a rollicking voice: "Ptufus Rastus Johnsing Brown, What che gwine ter do when the rent comes roun'?" The editor had stood like one in a trance during the shearing process, and only a convulsive movement of his hand toward the pocket in which he kept his profits indicated how narrowly he had escaped ranking with The Lure of the Unspoken Word I 5 the twenty-five shorn lambs. The timely interruption of Mr. Botts was all lli.il had saved him. "It's wonderful, it's perfectly wonderful!" he gasped. "There's something in your theory, Bottsy. " "Of course there is," said the Minor Poet loftily, "lie is of the elect, tie understands the lure of the unspoken word. You will observe that he did not break the law, although he cheated, bullied, and even threatened with violence the unselected crowd of the street corner. He did not make any promises, and therefore could not break any. He even had his vic- tims trained to say 'please' and 'thank you' while he parted them from their money. No, it is not hypno- tism, it is The Lure. That is the kind of thing which I try to get into my sonnets, although on a loftier plane than the material, of course." "What you need is something of that sort to sell your sonnets," replied the editor and proprietor of the Rinkey-Dink Monthly. "Gad! if I had a fellow like that in charge of my advertising department! By George, I'll do it. He can make his own terms. How do you suppose I can get in touch with that fellow ? ' ' he asked, abruptly. "You might try police headquarters," replied the Minor Poet. "Say," he added, "couldn't you use a little write-up of that scene in the paper?" "Sure, sure! Put it together and send it in," re- plied the editor as he detached himself hurriedly and darted away in the direction of the Hall of Justice. It was a month later. The Minor Poet was begin- ning to wonder why he had not heard about that man- uscript which he had promptly submitted. Another commission had kept him from the office of the month- ly ; the manufacturer of a patent eyelet for laced shoes had ordered a set of incomplete limericks for a prize competition. There was some money in that kind of work! The postman 's knock interrupted his as he was try- ing to find a good rhyme for the line The man who wears Pudd's Patent Eyeleti. 16 Clever Business Sketches He feared that even the uncritical ear of Pudd would reject "violets." With some preoccupation he opened his door to receive the regular daily sheaf of returns, those sonnets and stories which came hack, like the dove to the ark, hearing an olive branch in the form of a neatly printed testimonial of literary merit. One of the envelopes which he opened contained his little description of the human dollar-magnet, but with it, in place of the usual rejection slip, was a scrap of "copy" paper on which the following note was inscribed in the firm handwriting of the editor and proprietor of the Rinky-Dink Monthly: "Dear Bottsy: — We secured the services of your street corner friend for the adv- dept., according to your suggestion. His salary was only $500 per, which was reasonable, as he landed contracts for about $12,000 and collected on them. He succeeded in rais- ing two mortgages on the plant and sold the office furniture to a second-hand man named Goldstein. That was the day he left town. I am camping in the office to prevent Goldstein from taking possession. Your theory about the lure of the unspoken word is a regular peach in literature, but somehow I couldn't make it work in my business. Yours faithfully, "J." THE BUSINESS SPY BY F. B. LINTON "What can I do for you?" inquired John Garrison, owner and operator of the Independent Coal Mines, glancing from his desk to the young man who un- announced had entered his office. "1 am a very busy man this morning." The young man moved a chair close to Garrison's desk, sat down, adjusted a pair of rimless nose glasses, and eyed him keenly. "You sent for me," he replied. "Who in the Dickens are you?" "Gilbert, Paul Gilbert." "Oh! You are Gilbert, the secret service agent. I was expecting to see an older man. I am glad to see you, Mr. Gilbert, very glad, indeed," and his frank expression and the warm grasp of his hand convinced Gilbert that he was sincere. "Then I take it that the coal trust is pushing you hard. Men are generally in a tight place when they send for me," said Gilbert. "Yes, they have me in a tight place. They have told me that they will run me out of business or break me. They may break me — I am beginning to fear they will — but I swear they '11 never run me out while I 've got a cent left to fight with," replied Garrison ex- citedly. "There have been times when I would have sold out to them for a fair price, but that time has passed. It's a fight to a finish now!" "That's the proper spirit, Mr. Garrison," said Gil- bert quietly, "but you are talking too loud. The man- ager of the trust in Pittsburg may hear you. It's only 50 miles and we have wireless telephony now, you know." "He already knows as much about my business as I do," answered Garrison more calmly. "He finds A 17 18 Clever Business Sketches out where I send quotations and underbids me. He finds out when my contracts expire and prevents my renewing them. He knows my exact output, ^nd my profit and loss on every transaction. Every move of mine is anticipated and obstacles put in my way. So difficult is it for me to get and hold customers that tlu 4 cost of my sales department eats up all the profits. If I don't get a check on them somewhere, it's only a question of time until I go to the wall. I must find out how they learn my carefully guarded trade secrets. It is for that purpose I want to engage your services. I'll have to fight the devil in his own way." "Indeed?" queried Gilbert. "I did not refer to you," replied Garrison with a laugh. "If you will tell me the exact steps that have been taken in the fight," said Gilbert, "I shall know where to begin work. It is perhaps unnecessary to remind you that you must trust me implicitly." When they parted two hours later Gilbert knew the situation thoroughly. lie went directly to Pittsburg, the headquarters of the bituminous coal trust. The next day Garrison had a stroke of luck. The United Steel and Manufacturing Company of Pitts- burg opened negotiations with him for their supply of coal. They had previously obtained all their coal from the trust. They now desired to make a five years' contract with Garrison for a weekly supply that was about the average output of his mines. They offered a price that would be exceedingly profitable to Garri- son ; for if he secured the contract he could do away with his expensive sales department, and defy the trust for at least five years. The only feature in the contract that he did not like was t lie excessive penalty imposed on him for failure to deliver weekly the amount specified. That penalty would mean ruin if for any reason he could not de- liver the coal. The U. S. & M. Co. would not yield one jot on that point. "They are afraid," thought Garrison, "that if I fail them, the trust will refuse to sell them coal at any price." The Business Spy 19 He could see nothing, however, thai could prevenl him from supplying the required amount. Ee owned the coal laud and could mine thai much with his pres- ent equipment. Ee could keep a sufficienl quantity in reserve to tide him over any short delay caused by a break in Ihc machinery or oilier accidents. His profits would bo large enough to prevent any threat- ened strike by granting an increase to his miners. He deeided to accept the terms and close the contract. He wired Gilbert: "Unnecessary to proceed fur- ther. Come here at once." In two hours he received this reply: "Don't close contract with U. S. & M. Co. Keep up negotiations. Important developments here. Cannot leave now. Under no circumstances close the contract. "Gilbert." "The Dickens!" exclaimed Garrison. "How does he know anything about this contract? The United Steel and Manufacturing Company seemed to desire secrecy even more than I. Not a man in my office knows about it. I thought this was one transaction that even the trust would know nothing of until it is closed. ' ' Then it occurred to him that if he delayed, the trust would probably learn of it. Perhaps they knew of it already. What if they had bribed Gilbert to block the deal? Why should he be guided by Gilbert? As- suming that Gilbert was honest in his intentions, he evidently did not know all the facts in the case; or else he was using very poor judgment. The United Steel and Manufacturing Company were pressing him for a final decision. The morning after his conference with Garrison, Gilbert in his private office on the fifteenth floor of a skyscraper on Smithfield St., Pittsburg, received the reports of two of his assistants. They had been de- tailed the evening before to get certain definite in- formation in regard to the organization and the work- ing system of the coal trust. Gilbert's offices were os- tensibly those of an expert accountant and business systematizer. That, in fact, had been his occupation 20 Clever Business Sketches until he had become a commercial secret service agent on account of his peculiar talents and accurate knowl- edge of men and the methods of business organization. In this line of work ho found a wide field for action, and, after he demonstrated his ability, a great demand for his skill. For system and justice he had an admi- ration amounting almost to reverence. It was his de- light to pit his skill and intelligence against that of greedy and dishonest managers and operators of busi- ness organizations, and force them to abandon un- just practices. It was with keen pleasure that he now set about learning the method by which the newly formed coal trust was trying to drive out all competitors in gen- eral and Garrison in particular. It was clear that they hoped to monopolize the bituminous coal industry of western Pennsylvania. In company with one of his assistants, Gilbert called at nine o'clock on J. C. Bishop, the manager of the trust. His assistant carried a tin case, somewhat like a typcAvriter case but larger, and four iron legs to support it. Bishop was intrenched in a private of- fice and as inaccessible as the Czar of Russia. Know- ing this, Gilbert brought a letter of introduction from J. J. Smith of New York, the president of the Board of Directors of the coal trust. That this letter had been prepared in Gilbert's office was not apparent on its face. The signature had been so cleverly forged' that it deceived the men who were most familiar with the genuine. "Mr. Bishop," said Gilbert, pointing to the case which the assistant placed in the corner of the office, "I have there an invention that will do the work of fifteen bookkeepers. It will " "Look here, young man," interrupted Bishop, "1 have no time to talk to agents. Take that thing out and explain it to my chief clerk." "I am not trying to sell this machine, Mr. Bishop," replied Gilbert. "Mr. Smith, your president, wants you to look into this with him with the view of manu- The Business Spy 21 facturing it. Mr. Smith himself will be here this afternoon. I want to leave it until he comes." "You say that Mr. Smith is coming today?" in- quired Hi shop. "I have an appointment with him here at five o'clock," replied Gilbert. "It is strange that he has not wired me. I have my hands full, too. I've no time to monkey with crazy in- ventions." "Well, he's coming," replied Gilbert in no wise re- buffed. "It is his desire, too, that no one gets to ex- amine my invention until he has looked into it. Will you see that it is not disturbed?" "No one will touch it." "Then good day, Mr. Bishop," and Gilbert and his assistant left the office. Promptly at five o'clock Gilbert again called. Mr. Smith had not arrived. Gilbert was greatly surprised. He could not understand the president's failure to keep his appointment. Probably they would hear from him later. He did not want to take any of Mr. Bishop 's time, he said, so he carried his machine away until such time as Mr. Smith should designate for him to return it. When Gilbert reached his own office he placed his machine very carefully on the floor, threw off his coat, and adjusted his nose glasses. "Now, Billy," he said to his assistant, "lock the door and we shall see if your guess that there would be something doing in Bishop's office to-day was cor- rect," "I didn't set Bishop's office boy up to dinner last night for nothing," replied Billy with a grin. "My machine is still running and makes absolutely no sound!" exclaimed Gilbert, removing the case which covered it. "The record cylinders have fallen into place without a hitch. We've got a record of every word spoken in Bishop's office today." One by one Billy transferred the cylinders from the recording machine to a phonograph. Gilbert leaning back in a comfortable chair with his 22 Clever Business Sketches feet propped upon his desk, and a cigar in his mouth, listened intently to every sound reproduced. There were interviews with the heads of various de- partments, then a series of letters dictated, and a conversation with a manufacturer in regard to a big contract; but this was of no interest lo Gilbert. The peculiar sound of the phonograph became monotonous. He closed his eyes and was falling into a doze when suddenly he sat bolt upright, every faculty alert, his whole attention concentrated on the machine. Bishop was talking to the president of the United Steel and .Manufacturing Co., and the president of the P. V. & L. R. R. Co. Garrison's name was mentioned. They discussed the details of an agreement. The U. S. & M. Co. was trying to close a contract with Garrison bind- ing him to deliver a certain amount of coal weekly and imposing a ruinous penalty for his failure to do so. The P. V. & L. R. R. Co., which controlled the lines over which Garrison must ship his coal, would prevent him from getting enough cars, sidetrack the cars he did get, and by any other means that might be necessary make it impossible for him to deliver the coal. The purpose of this arrangement was to force Garrison out of business and give the coal trust a mo- nopoly. For their part in the work according to the agreement the P. V. & L. R. R. Co. was to get all the freight business of the coal trust. The U. S. & M. Co. was to get a rebate on the price they paid Garrison for any coal that he did succeed in delivering, and when he was put out of business their coal was to be sup- plied by^the trust at a very low figure for a number of years. The terms of this agreement were put in writing and three conspirators signed it. The written agreemenl was left in Bishop's care until the U. S. & M. Co. secured the signed contract from Garrison. Scarcely had the phonograph told the story of the plot when Gilbert received Garrison's telegram instructing him to proceed no further with his investigations. "He is walking righl into the trap," thought Gilbert, "but he lias not signed the e.mtrad yet. lie must not call the thin- off at once, hut keep up negotiations." The Business Sj>/j 23 He then wired Garrison the warning not to sign the contract. The next morning as Gilbert was leaving his office he was called to the telephone. Garrison wanted to speak to him. "I have signed the contract, Mr. Gilbert," said Garrison. "It was too good a thing to let go. 1 thought ■" "What?" shouted Gilbert. "Didn't you get my telegram ? ' ' "Yes; but 1 thought you didn't know " "You're a fool, Garrison, a big fool. It's a wonder the trust hasn't gobbled you up long ago," replied Gilbert angrily. "Sir," came the indignant reply, "you wouldn't talk like that in my presence. What do you mean?" "The coal trust wrote that contract for the U. S. & M. Co., and " "How's that?" " the P. V. & L. R. R. Co. are going to prevent you from delivering the coal." "My God, man, I'm ruined!" "Not if you have sense enough to follow my direc- tions. Come to my office tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock. In the meantime continue your preparations to supply coal on the contract. The trust people must not learn that you know that they have trapped you. Good bye," and Gilbert rang off. ""Well, this is getting interesting," he thought. "Garrison does not really deserve to be pulled out of this ; but it will be worth while to knock in the head the plans of those respectable gentlemen who flatter themselves that they can trifle with the laws of justice as easily as with the laws of their servants, the legis- lators. We shall see if they can. But Garrison was right; we shall have to fight the devil in his own way." Gilbert gathered from some words reproduced by the phonograph that Bishop's chief clerk had been authorized to employ an additional book-keeper and he determined to get the job ; for a man on the inside has an obvious advantage over a man on the outside 24 Clever Business Sketches when it comes to getting carefully guarded secrets. His letter of introduction from President Smith came again into service; but this time he presented it to the chief clerk who ushered him at once into the presence of Mr. Bishop. The manager's office opened into the main office. Gilbert, feared that Bishop might have received communications from President Smith tending to weaken confidence in his veracity. When the chief clerk left them, however, lie boldly asked if President Smith had sent word yet when he was com- ing to examine his invention. Learning that the president had not announced the time of his coming and that it was Mr. Bishop's desire that he never would come for that purpose, and his earnest wish never to hear of or see the invention again, Gilbert, after venturing to express the belief that he would be- come intensely interested in it and his certain convic- tion that he would again hear of it, went out into the main office. Gilbert's pleasant smile when he came out led the chief clerk to believe that he had had a very satisfac- tory interview with Mr. Bishop. "I applied to Mr. Bishop for a job as an account- ant," said Gilbert. "He requested me to say to you that if you have not yet put a man in that new posi- tion, to give me a trial." "No. I have not filled the place," replied the chief clerk. "Then I'm in luck," said Gilbert. "If you will outline my work, I shall try to get my hand in to-day." Gilbert was pleased to note that when seated at his desk assigned him he faced the door of Bishop's of- fice. The man whom the chief clerk assigned to show Gilbert his duties, concluded that he was the most in- quisitive fellow he had ever met. His desire to be- come acquainted with the details of his work was not so marked as his eagerness to acquire a general knowl- edge of the office system and personnel. His persist- ence jn seeking information in regard to the manner and place in which the records of the manager's office were filed, provoked his preceptor to inquire sarcas- The Business Spy 25 tically if he had any designs on the manager's job. Gilbert, however, was not so absorbed either in his duties or his inquiries as to fail to scrutinize every person who entered or came out of the manager's of- fice. Soon after his instructor left him to work out his own salvation, Bishop came out hat in hand and descended in the elevator. As he passed through the office, Gilbert realized that it was an opportune time to put the lower drawer of his desk in order, but no sooner was Bishop out of sight than he lost his sud- denly acquired interest in the job. In just five minutes by his watch, he went into the telephone booth and called up Bishop's private secre- tary who was still in the manager's office. "This is the Duquesne Hotel," he said to the sec- retary. ' ' Mr. Bishop has stopped in here and he wants you to come at once and take some dictation." Receiving assurances that the secretary w r ould go immediately to the hotel, Gilbert went back to his desk. A moment later he had the satisfaction of seeing him come out and enter the elevator. ' ' Now I shall have at least fifteen minutes, ' ' thought Gilbert, as he walked boldly into the manager's office and closed the door. After pausing a moment to see if he was followed, he went rapidly through the draw- ers and pigeon holes of the manager's desk. Then he turned his attention to an open safe in the corner. In a moment, he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. He had found the written agreement signed by the three conspirators. He thrust it in his pocket. Arising from his stoop- ing posture, he stood face to face with the chief clerk. "What are you doing in that safe?" inquired the chief clerk sternly. "Nothing. You didn't see me do anything, did you?" replied Gilbert, with a forced laugh, parrying for time in which to frame a plausible explanation. "No?" said the chief clerk coldly. "Don't get sarcastic," said Gilbert, with a wave of his hand. "I came in after this" — reaching in his pocket where he had put the agreement, but bringing 26 Clever Business Sketches out instead his forged letter of introduction from President Smith — "you have read it. I left it here with Mr. Bishop, but it occurred to me a moment ago that I would want it tonight to present to a personal friend of President Smith's — perhaps you know that I am the president's nephew— so I came in here to get it. I thought that Mr. Bishop was here, but when I found him out. and the safe door open — I saw him put it in there — I took it. And," he continued indig- nantly, "I don't like being jacked up as if 1 were a thief. You see the cash drawer is locked. I didn't get the money." The chief clerk apologized, begged him to consider that he was prompted by a sense of duty, and forced him to admit that his actions were suspicious. Accepting the apology with an air of a man who can afford to be magnanimous, Gilbert went back to his desk and took up his work. A few minutes later Mr. Bishop's secretary returned and hastened into the private office. He came out im- mediately and held a whispered consultation with the chief clerk. They both re-entered the private office. Gilbert seized his hat and made a hasty exit. As he went out the street door he met Bishop coming in. A half block away he found his cab which was waiting for him and was driven rapidly to his offices on Smith- field street. The next morning in company with Garrison, Gil- bert called on the president of the P. V. & L. R. R. Co. Briefly Garrison stated their business. They desired him to sign a contract. They had it written out in full. The president adjusted his glasses and settled back in his chair to read it. Gilbert watched his face closely. The terms of the contracl bound the railroad company to deliver Garrison's coal to the U. S. & M. Co. at the same price that the trust was to get as stated in the written agreement. It also imposed a penalty for any delay or failure to deliver the coal of the exact amount that Garrison was bound to pay by his contract. AYhen the president came to this part of the contract he flashed a look of inquiry at Garri- The Business Spy 27 son. Did he know the terms of the secret agreement or was it a mere coincidence? When he finished reading the contract, the president with a great show of indig- nation informed the gentlemen thai before he would sign it he would see them consigned to a region where they would need no coal. "I'll bet you sign in five minutes," said Gilbert, looking at him steadily. "You're a fool," replied the president, meeting his gaze without flinching. "If you sign it, Mr. Garrison can carry out his very profitable contract with the U. S. & M. Co., and be in a position to defy the coal trust," suggested Gilbert with a smile. "I am not interested in Mr. Garrison's contracts. If he has made a good one, that is no reason why I should make a bad one," said the president. "But I take it from this," said Gilbert, holding up the written agreement which he had taken from Bishop's safe so that the president could see the three signatures, "that you are interested in it." The president sprang to his feet. "How did you get that?" he demanded. "Never mind how I got it," said Gilbert, rising and looking him squarely in the eye. "Will you sign this contract or shall we enter suit against you and the others for conspiracy? You have two minutes more in which to act." The president noted the resolute, aggressive stamp of Gilbert's features. He cursed his folly for having been induced against his own judgment to have the terms of the agreement put in writing and signed. Gilbert held his watch in his hand. He glanced from it to the president inquiringly. The president took up the contract, hesitated a moment, and then signed it. "So long as you keep the terms of this contract," said Gilbert, putting it in his pocket, "the written proof of your conspiracy will be safe in my keeping. But break either the spirit or the letter of the contract and — but I know you won't, Mr. President, of course not," and Gilbert and Garrison bowed themselves out. THE STRIPED TOURISTS. BY MONTAGUE GLASS. Abe Potash, of Potash & Perlmutter, jobbers and wholesalers of ladies' cloaks and suits, stood in front of his store, ready and willing to greet customers, but none came. Instead, Louis Mintz, manufacturers' drummer, rushed across the street, dodging two trolley cars and an automobile in his progress, and grasped him warmly by the hand. Now Louis' lay was sympathy, and he made haste to put it in practice with Abe Potash. "Well, Abie, my boy," he said, "you look like you'd struck the high and dry place between a fail- ure and a fire. "What's the trouble?" Abe disengaged his right hand from Louis' cordial embrace, and backed away hurriedly. "Please," he protested, "no jokes. Enough's enough. The last lime you was here, you made some fine jokes for Perlmutter, and we got them striped tourists' coats yet." Louis looked grieved. "Why, they're my best sellers, Abie. If I'd thought you was going to get stuck with them tourists, I 'd uv eat 'em first." "Eat 'em now, " Abe suggested. " 'Tain 't too late. They're all there, just where your expressman left them." The troubled look on Louis' face grew almost ago- nizing in its intensity. "Now, that ain't no way, Abe," he grumbled. "Perlmutter bought them, and Perlmutter 's your partner." "My partner?" Potash cried, and his bushy eye- brows elevated themselves so far, that it seemed im- possible for them to descend again without surgical assistance. He seized Mintz by the coat and dragged him into the store. 28 The Striped Tourist 29 "Come," he said eagerly, "I want you should hear some things. You shall judge it hetween us." "Hold on, there, Abe," Louis cried, struggling to free himself. "That's a now suit." "I'll buy you another," Abe said, releasing his grasp on the drummer's coat, "if you take back them tourists. ' ' He led the way to the office in the rear. "You ain't in no hurry, no?" he commenced. "Then sit down. Here, have some cigars," he pulled a handful from his pocket. "Take 'em all, I don't smoke." "Much obliged, Abie. "What are you doing? Buy- ing cigars for the drummers?" "Me buy cigars for drummers?" Abe cried indig- "He seised Mints by the coat ' ' nantly. "I catch myself. I don't buy no cigars for nobody. All such things, such nonsense, I leave for Perlmutter. ' ' Louis lit one of the cigars and blew a great cloud of smoke. "Where's Perlmutter now?" he asked. "Is he out?" Potash laughed a hollow, mirthless guffaw. "No, Louis," he replied. "Perlmutter ain't out. I am out. Abe Potash is out. Business ain't bad enough, Louis; collections ain't slow enough, Louis; 30 Clever Business Sketches sales ain't falling off enough, Louis; but that big fool, that crazy Perlmutter, he gets it into his head he must go off and get married." Potash gained heat as he proceeded, and punctu- ated each enough, with a bang of his fist. "Is Morris Perlmutter married?" Louis exclaimed. "So sure as you smoke them cigars from his wed- ding," Potash said solemnly. "Perlmutter is mar- ried and away on his wedding tower. He got to have a tower, too, Louis. When I was married I had tow- ers, too, you believe me, Louis. My wife and me, we don 't know what towers is, when we got married. But Perlmutter he must have everything. Towers he must have, with Meyer Rothschild's daughter." "Of Rothschild & Pollak?" Louis asked. "That's them," Potash assented, "Rothschild & Pollak. You know 'em, Louis?" Louis nodded. "Then I don't have to tell you that Rothschild's a pollak, but Pollak ain't no Rothschild, Louis, no siree. Pollak is one plain crook, — two tires in Milwaukee and a failure in Toledo. Nice people they are, Louis, be- lieve me." "And where did Perlmutter go with his bride?" Louis inquired. "Ask me where he goes?" Potash grunted. "At- lanta, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington and Old Point Comfort. AVhen I was married, I went with my Rosie to Old Point Comfort, Louis. Believe me I was happy we could go to two rooms on Third street. But then I married a common-sense girl, Louis; not so stylish, but a good cook, y' understand. I give you my word, Louis, we was by Rothschild's for dinner last week, and T thought I was poisoned. Perlmutter Bays Minnie Rothschild cooked that dinner all by her- self. 1 don't know if he speaks the truth or not. Loins, — Perlmutter is such a liar you can't depend on him from one word to another, — but if she did cook th.it dinner, Louis, then Perlmutter has as good as committed suicide." The Striped Tourist 31 Here Potash was interrupted by the postman 's whis- tle. "Don't go, Louis," he apologized; "I'll get them letters and come right back." He returned a moment later with three letters. "Ain't that the funniest thing, Louis?" he said. "Here's three Idlers from Perlmutter; one from At- lanta, one from Baltimore, and one from Philadelphia. "Three of a kind," Louis commented. "No good to me, Louis," Potash murmured. "I might as well throw 'em in the discard." He opened the letter from Atlanta first. 'I'll read it to you, Louis," he explained. "I aint' got no secrets from nobody." lie adjusted his glasses at the proper angle and commenced : "Mr. A. Potash: • "Friend Abe: I trust this letter finds you well. The same I can assure you. Well, Abe, we are in At- lanta. Minnie thought we should go right through to Atlanta and make Washington, Baltimore and Phila- delphia on our way back, as we can stay in Atlanta over Sunday and maybe do some business." Potash looked up from his reading. "A bluff," he snapped. "She cares a lot about business." "Go ahead with your letter," said Louis, and Pot- ash started in again. "Well, Abe, I seen Mishkind this a. m. and he ain't buying no striped tourists." "Sure not," Potash commented, bitterly. "He wants you should ship him by express dupli- cate order 1423. Only you should send 8 doz. lot 4080 instead of 4 as last month. Inclosed please find Rabi- ner's check for $525. He says I should make it 10 off 30 days and 5 ex. But I told him that people what is such slow pay like him must ask no favors from no- body. Yours respectfully, "Morris Perlmutter. "P. S. — How's business in the store?" He folded the letter and threw it on the desk. 32 Clever Business Sketches "Mawruss done well in getting that money, Louis. The boy done well." Louis nodded again. "He's a good boy, Louis, only a little wild. May- be — I don't know — marriage makes a man out of him. What, Louis?" "Maybe," Louis answered enigmatically. "Well, here's the next," Abe said, and commenced to read the Baltimore letter. "Mr. A. Potash: "Friend Abe: Well, Abe, we had a good time in Atlanta and it is a good live town. We got to Balto this a. m. and Rasenberg said he ain't using no stripes." "What did I tell you?" Abe cried. "I enclose his order on separate sheet. $1,222.2-4. ain't so bad. Also order from Finkelbein $840.75. n "And she cooled thai dinner all by herself" Elenbogen & Klein $942.80. We expect to see Kinst- ler this p. m. before leaving for Phila. "Yours in haste. M. Perlmutter. "P. S. — I hope everything is 0. K. in store." Potash closed the letter with a smile. "I tell you, Louis, when a young man grows up, like Mawruss, it's only righl he should find a nice girl like Minnie Rothschild, and tret married. It gives him something to work for. Am 1 right or wrong, Louis?" "Let's hear the next one," Louis said, and Abe opened the last letter. The Striped Tourist 33 "Mr. Abraham Potash: " Philada. " Friend Abe : Well, Abe, Finkelbein says you should double up on lot 4080. This makes his order $1,329. Ship at once. Stripes ain't no good in Philadelphia, too. Levy & Marcus, The Fair and Square Store, Herman Block and M. Fishlowitz orders on the other side. Home Sunday. " Resp., M. Perlmutter. "Regards to all friends in store." "When a man's got a good live partner, Louis," Abe said, beaming, "business is always good, ain't it? I tell you, Louis, the only thing the matter with Maw- russ was that he don't get married. If I say it once, I say it a thousand times, 'Mawruss, why ain't you got married? Be a man, Mawruss.' And he took my advice, Louis, and he's got a nice girl, a good girl and a good cook, too. I give you my word, Louis, my Rosie is a good cook; but Minnie Rothschild, that's a good cook. Excuse me while I answer the phone." He took down a receiver as the bell trilled impa- tiently. "Hallo, hallo. Yes, — this is Potash and Perlmut- ter. Yes, — Oh, wie gehts, Mr. Pollak. How's Mr. Rothschild? That's good. Have we any striped tour- ists? I'll see." He covered the transmitter with his hand, and winked solemnly at Louis. Then he resumed the tele- phone conversation. "Hallo, Mr. Pollak. I think I can let you have some. No, I ain't got many, only two gross. Why, no, Mr. Pollak, that ain't many. I'll ship 'em to you this afternoon. Much obliged, Mr. Pollak. Good-bye." He hung up the receiver with a profound sigh. "Louis," he said, earnestly, "that Mr. Pollak, that's one fine gentleman. Comes from fine people, y 'understand, on the other side. That's a fine concern, Rothschild and Pollak ; gilt edge A number one. You know Mr. Rothschild? That's Mawruss' father-in- law. Sure. Well, good bye, Louis." "How about some more of them striped tourists, Abe?" "That's right, Louis. I come near forgetting all about it. Just duplicate that order." BILL SICKLES— LAZY MAN. BY EDWARD BLOMEYER. Illustrations by Ernest Adams. He came to us in one of the annual, before Christ- mas, "round-ups" of extra help — a long, lanky, half- starved looking individual, with a big, square jaw and a pair of steel gray eyes that bored into you like a pair of gimlets when he looked at you; the laziest awkwardest, easiest-going, best natured specimen of the man-animal it has ever been my fortune to run across, and I've met several. His speech was hardly more than a drawl ; he said ' ' \va '11 ' ' for ' ' well ' ' and talked through his nose with the inborn facility found only in the true native of old New England. The boss, as was usual, had advertised for a bunch of new men to help get out the holiday rush orders, and among the first to line up outside the private office door that morning was this William Sickles — called "Bill" for short, and, when Ave got to know him, "Lazy Bill," which described him better. The boss got down late that morning, and his tem- per, which never graded more than 60 per cent per- fect when he was in the best of humor, was in shape to raise the hair on the heads of the boldest of the office force — who knew him by bitter experience. But black looks and heavy frowns worried Bill not at all; when his turn came for inspection he sauntered into the office with all the ease and grace of a millionaire boarding his private yacht, and dropped coolly and calmly into a softly upholstered chair by the old man's desk. "Stand up!" roared the boss, getting red in the face; "what the blankety-blank d'y e think this is — a tea party?" Bill stood up and leaned against the desk. The old man looked him over with a face like a thunder cloud. 34 Bill Sickles — Lazy Man 35 "Well," he growled, "what can you do?" Bill smile d sweetly. " What, liev ye got to do?" he chirped. "Little of everything," snorted the boss. "Talk quick, man! My time's val- uable!" Then he drawled, "Wa'll, Bill thought a moment. I kin do it." "Do it," fumed the old man, "do what?" "Little of everything." The boss came near ex- ploding, lie got redder and redder, and he sputtered and steamed like a teakettle on a red-hot stove. He cheAved savagely on his cigar as he gave the call button on his desk a vicious punch. 'Here, Johnson," he howl- ed, as the door opened and Johnson's head stuck timidly in, ready to dodge if necessary, "take this man and murder him — give him a thousand dollars — put him to work — anything, man, so long as you get him away from here before I hurt him ! Scat — both of you ! I 'm busy. ' ' Johnson was so badly scared that he missed all of the instructions but the last, and he followed that part literally, and put Bill to work. It turned out that Bill was a pretty good hand with a marking brush, so Johnson sent him down to the shipping department, where they were all work- ing eighteen hours a day to move the holiday pile-up. The shipping boss put Bill in a little ante-room all to himself, gave him a brush and a can of lamp-black, and told him to go as far as he liked. Bill went to work. 73 'Bill Sickles" 36 Clever Business Sketches Three or four days later the head shipper got a mo- ment's spare time and wandered into the little room to see how his new hand was getting along. He found Bill perched com tort ably on an empty packing case, his feet on another, drawing lazily on an old cob pipe, and reading the "Wholesaler's Gazette." "Great melting beeswax! " howled Bill's boss, "What in the hop-one-and-skip-two do you mean by settin' up there like a knot on a log when there's all this work to do ? Come down off that box, you blink- ety-blinked lazy, good for nothing " Bill interrupted his irate superior with a lazy wave of his hand. "You see them air boxes, don't ye?" he inquired good naturedly, indicating a huge pile of shipping cases reaching clear to the ceiling across the room. "Yes— yes— " 'Wa'll, they're all marked, ain't they?" The boss went closer and took a look. They were all marked — marked well, too, with neat figures and letters that looked more like print than hand work. The boss turned to Bill inquiringly. "Well—" he began. "That's a day's work," volunteered Bill, "all done this morning. You see, I diskivered that we was a shippin' goods day after day to the same people, an' so 1 jest up an' cut me a bunch o' stencil sheets the other day. Now all I hev to do is to jest slap the sheet on the box an' run the brush over it, an' it's done. When I run across a new address, I make me a new stencil — an' the balance of the time, I rest." This all happened years ago, remember, before the introduction of the multitudinous devices now in use for the shortening of work, and even such a simple little thing as a stencil was not then in general use by the big shippers. Well, the upshot of the matter was that, after the head shipper had calmed down enough to investigate Bill's work, he liked it so well that he had stencils made right away for every customer the firm had. There had been four men, including Bill, kept busy nailing lids on boxes and marking them, Bill Sickles — Lazy Man 37 h vA \\ "Re found Bill perched on an empty packing box, draiving on an old cob-pipe" and when the stencils were put in use, it was found that three could do the work. One man had to go, and as Bill was the newest, he found himself out of a job. Lost his job, did I say? Well, not exactly, either — the manager of the first stock floor knew a good thing when he saw it, and he gobbled up Bill and put him to work as a stock clerk at two dollars more on the week. 38 Clever Business Sketches Bill might have been lazy, but he was an easy learner, and in six months he had the run of the first stock floor — hardware and builder's supplies — so well that he could- shut his eyes and tell off the stock num- bers without skipping even a brass headed screw. Now, the firm is an old one, which has grown up by gradual stages from a very small beginning, and in some instances the handling system has not kept pace with the growth of the business. The stock rooms were at that time a fair sample of this non-progres- sion. "When an order was received, the order depart- ment made from it a slip for each floor, showing the goods necessary from that departmenl to fill the order; the head stock man of the floor assigned a copy of his slip to the first stock clerk unemployed. The clerk filled the order complete, and run the basket contain- ing the goods onto the elevator, which carried it and a copy of the packing slip down into the shipping room. Bill worked all right for a time, then the lazy bug bit him again, and when the lazy bug bit Bill it seemed always to bite him on the head, for right away his noggin commenced to churn out schemes for saving work. He smoked a few pipefuls of "twist" over the matter, and then he went to the boss with a plan which was simplicity itself. He figured that if each man was given only a certain section of the floor to attend to, and tha first man getting the order filled it complete from his section, and then passed the basket on to the section nearest him, the eleven men on that floor would save a good deal of the time they used in running all over the room, to say nothing of the ad- vantage to one William Sickles, who intended, if possible, to get a department so small that he could reach every corner of it while sitting down. The first floor manager was a progressive sort of a fellow, and he took to the idea like a Dutchman does to beer. It was so successful that the floor could gel along with ten men instead of eleven — and the elev- enth man was Bill. So it was another case of "Move on, Bill." Bill Sickles — Lazy Man 39 About that time one of the boys in the order de- partment decided to seek pastures new, and as it was a rule of the house never to employ an outsider when a place could be fillod by an available man from an- other department, the manager of the order depart- ment immediately set up a howl for a man to fill the vacancy. Bill, being at the moment on the wing, as it were, was sent in to take the place. The head of the order department looked the new recruit over with a sad, far-away expression in his eyes. Then he lifted up his voiee and expressed him- self most volubly and sarcastically. His remarks were to the effect that it was his own private and indi- vidual opinion that the gentleman before him would make much more of a success in life if he were per- manently engaged in that delightful rural pastime sometimes jocularly referred to as "Gee-hawing old Beck," the principal implements employed being a mule and a plow. However, he added, as he had no , choice in the matter, he would put the gentleman to work — which he did. Bill's first work in the order department was to enter all orders received in the register, in which was written the date and number of the order, and the name and address of the customer. In fact, the man in charge of the order register was supposed to keep track of all the orders in process of being filled, and to jog up the stock room men a bit when a shipment was delayed. It took Bill just three months to get tired of turning and re-turning the pages of the im- mense book in his charge, and he cast about him for a remedy for this — to him — unnecessary labor. He hit upon the card system, which was at that time just becoming fairly well known, and rigged up for him- self a home-made card cabinet, in which he placed a card to represent each order being filled. It was his idea that, as soon as the shipment had been made, to file away the card representing the order, indexed by the names of the customers. He went to the manager with his sample outfit and received permission to put it into use. But it soon developed that this new sys- 40 Clever Business Sketches tern made the work so simple that another one of the clerks could handle it .in addition to his own work, and so they sent Bill down to the mailing room. Bill stayed in the mailing department four days, and one of these he spent down in the shipping room, making some cabinets of pigeon holes. When he in- stalled the cabinets, which provided a pigeon hole for each regular customer, and had received permission to put into effect a rule that all mail for each cus- tomer should go into his pigeon hole and then into one envelope each day, saving not only time, but sta- tionery and postage, the head mailing clerk decided that he didn't need an extra man after all. He called Bill out to one side, gave him his blessing and a large, black cigar, and sent him back to the order depart- ment with his compliments to its manager. Bill gave the manager the cigar, and the manager gave Bill a job making out invoices. At that time the firm had a very simple invoicing system, which consisted of merely making the invoice, in duplicate, from the stock-room filing records; the duplicate invoice was the house's permanent record of the sale. Bill wrote out invoices until he was threatened with the writer's cramp, then his fertile brain became busy again. After pondering the mat- ter for a time, he went to the manager with the sug- gestion that, since it was necessary to copy each order to get the stock-room filing records, he might as well make two additional carbon copies at the same time, the first to be on a regular invoice blank. The cata- logue price of each article should be shown on all of the copies made, but the extension columns would be left blank. "When all the shipping tickets were re- ceived, showing the goods sent, and those not in stock, he would fill in on the first and second sheets, in the extension columns, the charges for the article shipped, and write the word "Out" when the article was not sent. By this plan, Bill figured, he would save him- self an immense amount of work, and still leave a job for him to hold. The plan seemed feasible, and it was tried. It worked well ; so well, in fact, that they Bill Sickles — Lazy Man 41 found they could get along without Bill, and the man- ager of the order department sent him over to the head accountant with the suggestion that he, the ac- countant, might as well resign and give Bill his job right away, for he would get it sooner or later any- way. The head accountant was willing to risk it, and Bill started in with a vim to learn bookkeeping before the lazy bug settled on him again. In the five years that followed his move to the ac- counting department, Bill held almost every clerical position that the firm had to offer, short of a depart- ment managership. A great fellow, he Avas; always planning some way to cut down his own work, and never failing to cut down the company's expense ac- count at the same time. It was Bill who pleaded for the adding machines, the billing machines, the time recorders, filing cabinets, and all the various devices that lessened our work by a fourth, and doubled our efficiency. It was Bill who, when out of a job one time, created the position of "Trouble Finder" — the man who goes around the house and turns off all the unnecessary lights, cuts off the heat that is not needed, and, by watching all the seemingly insignificant little expenses, saves the house twice his salary every month. But Bill lost even that place, for when the head of the order department died, the old man called in William Sickles and made him department manager. I was sorry to lose track of Bill when I left the firm and moved to a distant city; I was interested in watching his lazy, resourceful progress. So when, last month, I happened to be back in the old town again, I went around to the place to shake hands with the few of the old-timers who were still in the firm's em- ploy. One of the boys obligingly took an hour's time from his work to show me around the store, and I became so interested in noting the many improve- ments that had been made in the twelve years since I had left that Bill's fate completely slipped my mem- ory until my friend and I stood chatting for a mo- ment as I prepared to leave. 42 Clever Business Sketches "By the way," I asked, "what ever became of that good natured cuss we had around here when I left — Sickles, I believe his name was; we called Mm 'Lazy Bill,' you know." My friend laughed and looked at me queerly. "Come here," he said. He led me back into the house and down the long corridor that separates the accounting department's rooms from the offices of the buyers. Past the book- keeping rooms we went; past the order department; past the mailing rooms, and clear to the end of the hall. Then we stopped. My friend pointed ahead of us. "There's your answer," he said. I looked at the door indicated by his finger, a mas- sive one, of handsomely stained oak and glass, and then my mouth opened involuntarily from surprise, for there, in gilt letters, modest, in size, but brightly shining on the glass of the door, I read this sign : "OFFICE OF WILLIAM SICKLES," and under it, ' ' G ENERAL MANAG ER. ' ' If you like a moral to a story, perhaps yon can find one in this; I don't know. I haven't tried. Maybe you can find several different kinds of morals, so that you can have just the kind you want — suit yourself; it's a case of "you pays your money and you takes your choice." THE TRUTH PREVAILS IN SHADYVILLE. BY EDWARD BLOMEYER. Illustrations by Pcarsc Ennis. "Nineteen hundred an' thutty-three dollars an' seventeen cents, I make it," announced Silas Gooble, wetting his pencil and laboriously marking a sprawl- ing figure three beneath the long column of figures before him; "what do you git, Hi?" "I reckon you're right, boss," replied Hiram, his lanky bookkeeper, and the chief clerk, delivery boy and man of all work of Gooble 's General Store, squint- ing at his own figure-covered page, " 'cause that's what I git, to a cent; nineteen, thutty-three, seven- teen." Mr. Gooble leaned back in the rickety office chair and absently fingered his scraggly beard. "That's a hull lot of money to have out in book accounts, Hi- ram," he remarked thoughtfully. 'Yessir, 'lis that, sir," assented Hiram. 'Ef I had that in cash, I could discount all my bills, Hiram," gloomily continued Mr. Gooble. 'Yessir, I reckon you could, sir." Hiram knew very little about discounting bills, but he knew from Mr. Gooble 's look that it was something to feel bad about, so his voice was correspondingly gloomy. 'Ef I had that money, I could raise yore salary, Hiram," went on Mr. Gooble, meditatively chewing the end of his pencil. ' Yessir, you could that, sir ! " exclaimed Hiram, his face brightening joyfully at the prospect. This was a matter that Hiram did know something about, and the very thought of such a thing immediately raised his spirits several degrees. He grinned contempla- tively and cleared his throat as if to speak further, but the weight of his feelings overcame him, and h6 lapsed into silence again. 43 The Truth Prevails in Shady ville 45 Mr. Gooble sat upright in his chair and began turn- ing the leaves of the ledger which lay before him. He grunted despondently several times as his eyes rested upon pages full of long, closely-written accounts. This survey of the graveyard of his cash capital evidently brought him no pleasant memories, for he soon slammed the book shut with a groan. "Hi," he said with conviction, "we gotter c'lect them accounts." "Yessir," agreed Hiram, wisely nodding his head, "we gotter do it — that's what you said yistiddy, sir. How be we a-goin' to do it, sir?" "How be we goin' to do it?" sarcastically repeated Mr. Gooble. "Plaggone it! ef I knowed that, do you reckon I'd be askin' you fer advice? I allowed as mebbe you had some scheme fer " "Me?" interrupted Hiram, in a tone of incredulous amazement. "Gosh ding! Why, boss, I dunno naw- thin' about it 'tall, exceptin' what " "Now, Hi," cut in Mr. Gooble, "you lookey here! Here's all this money tied up in book accounts what's plumb good, ever' one of 'em, but they jest won't pay. I've writ 'em an' I've writ 'em, an' I've talked to 'em ontil ever' tooth in my head is rattlin', but they sticks to their money wusser'n a cuckle burr to a hoss. Now, I 've thought it all out ; I want that money, an ' you've been wantin' a raise in yore salary — an' when you figger out a way to git that coin, I'll be plumb tickel to give you that raise. So it 's you to git a hustle on. See?" "But, boss," expostulated Hiram, "1 " "Hi," chuckled his employer, turning back to his desk with a grin, "you better go deliver Mis' Beasley's coal ile." Hiram waved his arms excitedly. "Now, boss," he began, "lem'me tell you " "Hiram," sharply broke in Mr. Gooble, "there ain't nawthin' more to be said; you go deliver Mis' Beas- ley's coal ile." Hiram glared helplessly at his employer for a mo- 46 Clever Business Sketches ment, then, picking up Mrs. Beasley's coal oil can, he stalked out of the store. The next day at noon Hiram, rushing into the store from his dinner, took his surprised em- ployer by the arm and led that wondering gentleman far hack into a coiner of the room, behind the potato bin. "Boss," he whispered excitedly, "I've got it, by ding!" Following up the dazed Mr. Goohle, who was backing away in some alarm, Hiram launched into an excited explanation of his scheme. Mr. Gooble, calming down, lis- tened attentively but somewhat skeptically. "Where d'je git all that dope?" he grunted, distrust- fully. "You know that advertisin' feller from N' York, what's a-summerin' down to maw's?" explained his clerk; "well, he dished it up fer me last night. Purty good scheme, I think; it'll shore c'lect them bills if anything'll do it." "But, Hi," protested Mr. Gooble, "if mought mean some trouble ef any of them old fossils was to git het up about it. I ain't no fightin' man, an' you" — his glance wandered over his assistant's angular form — "goodness knows, you ain't! What you goin' to do » "Oh, I got that fixed all right," broke in Hiram, confidently, "you see, there's one of them prizefightin' fellers a-boardin' over to the Widder Blake's, an' I done had a talk with him— he says he'll help. What d'ye think about it, boss?" Mr. Gooble shook his head rather dubiously. "Well, I dunno, " he remarked with some hesitation, "but I 'tSilas Gooble" The Truth Prevails in Shadyville 47 reckon it's better 'n no way 'tall, an' I gutter c'lect them bills. Get yore advertisin' man to fix it up, Hi; we'll set it for Thursday week — that's circus day, an' ever' Tom, Dick an' Harry in the hull county '11 be here. An' tell him that when he goes to writin' that advertisement he kin go as far as he likes." The circus played against strong competition that day in Shadyville. In front of Gooble's store there had been erected a high platform; on it stood an old desk' and sev- eral chairs. Long before the time set in Mr. Gooble's ad- vertisement the street before his store was filled with peo- ple — a jolly, good-natured crowd, that pushed and jam- med and trod on one another's toes for half a block in either direction. Hiram, a list of his employer's debtors in his hand, gleefully wormed his way here and there through the throng, surreptitiously checking the names on the sheet as he went. Then, with a grin of satisfaction, he re- ported to Mr. Gooble. "They're all here, boss," he exclaimed; dinged feller what owes a bill is out there in that crowd! Some of 'em is plumb nervous, too,— their tongues is hangin' out a foot. When be you goin' to start?" '•' Right now," replied Mr. Gooble determinedly; "go git yore fightin' man." "Hiram" "ever' 48 Clever Business Sketclies It was an hour before the time for the big parade when Mr. Gooble mounted the steps to the top of the stand, an auctioneer's gavel in his hand. After him came Hiram, his lean face broken in twain by an enor- mous grin ; then came Mr. Parker, the advertising man. Following them was a short, broad-shouldered individual, with a thick, bull-like neck and hands like twin hams; this was Kid Collins, of some pugilistic fame. Mr. Collins also wore a grin — of anticipation. Mr. Gooble walked briskly to the front of the stand and surveyed the expectant crowd with a look of grim determination. He opened the desk and took from it a small wooden box, which he placed on the floor be- side him. Then, after a brief backward glance — to assure himself that his rear guard was on hand and all cleared for action — he brought his gavel down upon the desk with an attention-commanding bang. "Ladies an' gents," he announced, "there is fifty- two individuals out there amongst you what owes me money! I've tried ever' way I know of to c'lect it; I've talked to 'em ontil I was black in the face, an' I've writ to 'em ontil I've got the writer's cramp in both hands an' one foot, an' all I've got out of 'em so far is about a bushel of promises an' enuff hot air to send up a balloon — both of which is all right in their places, but they won't pay bills. The people what I bought the goods from that I sold to these here folks on expectation has took a suddint notion that I ort to pay fer 'em ; consequently, I've got to c'lect up or bust up — an' I'll be everlastingly danged ef I'll bust to satisfy anybody ! You all saw my page ad. in the Weekly Bugle, an ' I 'm here to tell you that I 'm goin ' to do jest exactly what I advertised to do — I'm goin' to sell ever' account on my books to the highest bidder, fer cash, an' I'll guarantee ever' one of these here fifty-two individuals to be plenty able to pay, an' good fer all they owe me. An' while I'm sellin' 'em, I'm goin' to tell you a few things about these particular individuals." Mr. Gooble paused for breath. He picked up the little box, reached into it, and drew out a folded paper. The Truth Prevail* in Shadyville 49 "In this box," he explained, "is a bill fer ever' account what's owed me. I'm goin' to pick 'em out regardless, an' sell 'em jest as I come to 'em." lie un- doubled the paper, adjusted his spec- tacles, and squinted at the bill. "The first one," he continued, "is Deacon Whipple, an' it's fourteen dollars an' a half." "Deacon Whipple," went on Mr. Gooble, after the sudden excitement of his audience had subsided, "has owed me this bill nigh onto a year. He got the goods under false pretenses, anyway, 'cause he promised to bring in enuff but- ter an' aigs the follerin' Sattiday to pay fer em', an' 'stead of doin' it he took his stuff over to Happy Holler settlement an' sold it fer cash — an' he ain't been in my store since. This here bill is fer a suit of clothes — the same suit the Dea- con's wearin' here to-day, an' when we went to that Odd Fellers excursion last spring he wouldn't speak to me, 'cause Advertising Feller" he was dressed up better 'n I was. Reckon he forgot the clothes he had on belonged to me ! Deacon Whip- ple has had the money to pay this bill, 'cause he bought his darter Sal a parlor organ from a mail order house, an' he sent the cash to git it, an' he bought " There was a stir in the crowd, and a tall, elderly man, with a long nose and a reddish, undipped beard, strode angrily towards the stand. This appeared to be Deacon Whipple, and there was blood in the dea- con's eye. "Here, you, Si Gooble," he bawled wrathfully, "what d'ye mean by runnin' down my character that w r ay? Consarn ye, I come twelve miles today a-pur- pose fer to pay ye that bill, an' here ye air a-black- guardin' me afore the hull township! What d'ye — " "Now, deacon," sweetly cut in Mr. Gooble, "don't you go an' fret yoreself — the truth is a moughty good 50 Clever Business Sketches thing sometimes, ef it does pinch a bit. An' you might as well calm down, 'cause you wont have to fight nobody to git to pay yore bill ; just step up here on the platform an' Hiram '11 take yore money an' be tick- led all over to git it." "Ef there's any more of you out there what wants to pay me what you owe me,'' announced Mr. Gooble to the crowd, "jest walk up here an' plank down. The mourners' bench is open fer you all ; 'as long as the light holds out to burn' — you know the rest of the song. Don't be bashful, now; ain't nobody goin' to bite you!" While Hiram was writing the dea- con's receipt, Mr. Gooble reached into the box and brought out another pa- per. Before unfolding it, he glanced behind him. Half-a-dozen sheepish- looking men were climbing the plat- form steps, pocketbooks in hand. Mr. Gooble heaved a mighty sigh of relief ; the scheme was working. "The next gent on the docket," he announced, "is Sam Hiekey, the hoss-trader; fifty-three dollars fer groceries. It shorely seems to me that after I kept Sam Iliekey's fambly from starvin' to death fer three months, he ort to be willin' to pay fer the grub. I'll jest tell you a few things " The threatened diselosures were cut short by a sud- den commotion in the crowd. A big, burly man, with a wide-brimmed white felt hat pushed far back on his perspiring forehead, scrambled furiously over the people nearest him, in a frantic effort to reach the plat- form, his big fists doubling and undoubling spasmod- ically as he advanced. "You will, will yer?" he blustered. "You'll tell a Kid Collins" The Truth Prevails in Shadyville 51 few things, will yerJ — you bald-head- ed old pecker-wood! I'll show you ef you kin talk about me that way! Lem'me by, ther< — git outen the way! Lem'me at him !" This was Mr. Collins' cue Slip- ping silently from his Beat, he was waiting at the bottom of the platform steps when the angry Mr. llickey made his tempestuous arrival. Mr. Collins said nothing at all — he just grinned. Mr. Hickey found his way suddenly barred by the stocky little pugilist, and he put out a brawny arm to brush the obstruction aside — then he had the surprise of his life. Mr. Collins positively refused to be brushed; instead, two solidly built arms, all muscle, shot out, and one of them pinned Mr. Hickey 's right fist fast to his side; the other wrapped swiftly about Mr. Hickey 's left leg and, with a sudden, jarring grunt, that gentleman sat down very hard upon the ground. He looked up in shocked surprise. "Who — who — "Me?" His opponent grinned at him impishly. "I'm Kid Collins, cull — de champeen middleweight of de Nun i fed States, an' I eats 'em alive like youse! Was youse lookin' f er trouble, cull ? ' ' Mr. Hickey sat upright and, scratching his head, thoughtfully regarded his adversary. "N-n-o," he stammered after a pause, "I — I— jest allowed as how I'd come up an' pay Si " "Oh, dat's it, is it?" pleasantly inquired the cheer- ful Mr. Collins ; ' ' well, youse kin sure have de chance, pal." He took Mr. Hickey by the arm and, raising him to his feet, gently escorted him up the platform steps. "Say, pal," he remarked to Hiram, "jest write dis gent a receipt fer what he owes, will yer? De mazuma's burnin' a hole in his pocket." "Silas Whipple" ?" he puffed. 52 Clever Business Sketches Mr. Bickey stood a moment as if undecided. Mr. Collins absent-mindedly doubled his fists, — they were large lists, strong and solid-looking. Mr. Ilickey waited no longer; reaching far down into his pocket he brought forth a roll of bills. The far-away toot of an advancing horn came through the air; the big parade was on ! As the crowd wavered, then broke, Mr. Gooble banged his gavel loudly on the desk'. "This here sale will be continued at four o'clock this afternoon," he bawled, "right after the big show. Come one, come all; there'll be somethin' doin' ever' minute. An', in the meantime, ef anybody wants to pay, they'll find me still doin' business at the same old stand." Mr. Gooble 's proclamation bore fruit, for, all dur- ing the afternoon, people passed into his store with their purses handy, and passed out with receipted bills. About three o'clock, Mr. Gooble, after escorting a solemn-faced farmer to the door, gave sudden vent to a loud and enthusiastic whoop. "Hi," he called, "com 'mere!" Wondering, Hiram followed his employer to the office, and there his eyes glued themselves involun- tarily upon a pile of currency, mixed with checks and coin, which lay upon the desk. Mr. Gooble, survey- ing his assistant's surprise with ill-concealed gratifi- cation, waved his hand airily toward the money on the table. "What d'ye know about that?" he inquired face- tiously. Eyes bulging, Hiram stared, first at his employer, then at the money, then at Mr. Gooble again. "Boss — "he began. "Wait a minute." chuckled Mr. Gooble, "an' jest take a look at this!" He extended a sheet of paper. "Them's the figgers on it," he explained. Hiram, surprised at first, was astonished beyond articulation now, as he scanned the paper ; he gasped feverishly as he came to the total. For a full minute The Truth Prevails in Shadyville 53 he gazed tenderly on the figures, then, reverently, he laid the sheet back on the desk. "By ding!" he ejaculated, impressively, and with feeling. "By ding!" he repeated, and he said it as if he meant it. When, a little later, the excitement-hungry crowd gathered again to hear Mr. Gooble's tale of woe, that gentleman climbed the platform steps alone. He re- garded the upturned faces of his audience with much satisfaction — for Mr. Gooble had long yearned for a moment such as this; then he started in to tell his hearers several things. He spoke at length about the evils of the credit system ; he remarked fluently and in detail upon the trouble of collecting debts, and he made a number of most pointed and satirical observa- tions regarding all persons in general who owed any- body, at any time, for anything, and those who owed one Silas Gooble in particular. He went on to say that in the future he expected to sell goods for cash. "I'm goin' to sell 'em so plagoned cheap that yon can't afford to buy anywheres else," said Mr. Gooble. "I'm goin' to fix it so that you'll be losin' money ef you don't come to me an' trade; I am, by heck! An' I'm goin, to advertise 'em, too, — you'll hear more about that later." "An' now, frien's," concluded Mr. Gooble, "you'll find a barrel of lemonade an' half a dozen boxes of seegars set out in the store; jest walk in an' help 3 T ourselves. I thank you fer yore kind attention- — an' I reckon that'll be about all." The people stood, undecided. Then there came a voice from out the crowd. "I thort," it said plain- tively, "as how you was goin' to sell some more bills out here today." Mr. Gooble had expected the question. "Frien's," he beamed, "I axes yore pardon fer not tellin' you, but I plumb forgot. I ain't a-goin' to sell no more bills, because" — he paused, swelling visibly over the importance of his tidings — "because there ain't no more to sell; ever' feller what owed me a bill has done been in today an ' settled up ! " THE PROGRESS OF A GENTLEMAN. BY GEORGE MAHON. "He'll not stay long," said Tom Mullins, decis- ively. ' ' He 's too much of a gentleman for this office. " "What's your definition of a gentleman, Tom?" asked Calker, — "Cub" Calker, as he was called, not by reason of his being of a tender and unsophisticated age, but because he had served but a paltry two years in the office where the rest of us had worked for what Tom Mullins would term "a crow's age." Cub was always getting himself into trouble by asking impu- dent or foolish questions, on which occasions "the office" individually and collectively would proceed to verbally sit upon him. "Listen to the innocent! What's a gentleman?" jibed Hughes. "Did you ever see one?" queried Watson. "Why yes, I've seen one or two," responded Cub, "though, now that I think of it, not among the com- pany here assembled. That, however, was not my question. What I want is simply Mullin's definition of a gentleman." Tom looked Cub over very deliberately from head to heel before deigning to answer. "Well then, sonny, listen." Tom's manner was most self-satisfied and condescending. "A gentle- man is a fellow who has been pampered and waited on, and who has been away to college and learned a lot of things that are of no practical use. He can talk about history and politics and art, he can dance and play golf; he feels as much at ease in his dress suit as you do in your working clothes; he always wears good clothes, even if ho doesn't pay for them ; he gen- erally has a big idea of himself and the girls all think he is just lovely; but when if comes down to doing hard, actual work, he can always prove an alibi." "Good. Very good, indeed!" commented Cub. 54 The Progress of a Gentleman 55 "That puts us out of it, sure. Imagine a man feel- ing comfortable in a dress suit ! 1 never could. And imagine Hughes talking art. He couldn't tell a land- scape from a fire-escape. And wouldn't Watson look cute playing golf? You'll never make it, Cummings, for when you talk politics you make us all wonder whether it would be better for us to commit suicide or simply to murder you. But Tom, old chap, there's hope for you." "Think so?" asked Mull ins, half pleased, yet cau- tious. "Certainly. You possess at least one qualification. "Whenever there is work to be done, your alibi is " Cub was gone. As the door slammed behind him it arrested the flight of Tom's ruler and paper-weight, hurled with murderous intent. As Tom recovered his property, Cub's laughter floated up to us, while our own mirth was increased by Henderson's sage remark that a gentleman never threw paper-weights, bricks, bottles or cuspidors, maybe, if the occasion required it, but never paper-w^eights. And then, noticing that the clock hands indicated ten minutes past six, we made a rush for our hats and departed. As I walked homeward my thoughts turned invol- untarily to the man who had been the occasion of Mullin's remark. Unquestionably he had the appear- ance and manner of a gentleman. How self-confident, yet courteous, he seemed as he stepped into the office and inquired for Mr. Harley. "Somewhere about the works," Watson replied shortly. For a moment, silence. Then the stranger asked, "Had I best go look for him or wait here?" "No one allowed through the works," grunted Wat- son. Then it was that Cub's impulsiveness broke out. Seizing a chair, he lifted it over the railing, at the same time saying, "Mr. Harley will be in shortly. Won't you sit down and wait for him?" "Thank you, I will," replied the stranger, and he 56 Clever Business Sketches did. For two long hours he sat silently, patiently, un- til at last the chief came. "That's him," volunteered Cub in a whisper. The stranger thanked him with a nod, rose, removed his hat and stepped forward. "Mr. Harley?" "Yes." "My name is Cortright. I have a letter from Mr. Clarke directing me to report to you." "Ah, you want a job?" "I do. I have brought some testimonials from my former em " "Oh, never mind that. I don't need any more help. Office full now. Crowded for room. But Mr. Clarke has instructed me to put you on and give you a trial, and what Mr. Clarke says goes in this estab- lishment. When can you start?" "At once." "H'm. Four o'clock. Not today. Report here at seven o'clock tomorrow morning." 'All right, sir. Thank you." ; No. Don't thank me. I am merely following di- rections. Now, see here. I don't know what you're to get or anything about it. Mr. Clarke simply says to give you a trial. He will decide on your salary, 1 suppose, when I report to him about you." "Oh, that is all right. I guess it won't be so heavy I can't carry it home," smiled Cortright. I held my breath, for none of us ever dared essay a joke in old Harley's presence. But now the chief actually laughed — a harsh, rasping laugh that sounded not unlike the rattle of rusty chains. " No, you can bet it won't be," he let out, and then suddenly recovered his dignity. Glaring about the office he frowned portentously at everyone who met his gaze. Then he stalked majestically to his desk and from there flung Cortright a surly, "Report at seven sharp." "All right, sir. Good afternoon," and Cortright was gone. The next day saw the complete disproval of Mul- < < < « ' The Progress of a Gentleman 57 lin's theory. The first to arrive was Cortright, who had a cheery "Good morning" for every man as he arrived, and as soon as old Harley appeared, Cort- right was by his side inquiring what he should do. "Cummings, " commanded the boss. I hastened to attend. "Take Cortright to your desk and instruct him in your work. Our desks are all taken, Cort- right, and there's no room for another, so you and Cummings must make shift at the same desk for a while." Was this man some favorite of the higher powers, that old Harley felt constrained to make explanations to him? Or was it the man's own personality that compelled from others the same courtesy he accorded them ? Later on we knew, but at the first our thought was, "Favoritism." Now, the position I filled was a source of some pride to me, for I had been obliged to serve long and ardu- ously at all the lower desks and to wait my turn in the slow moving line of promotion before I attained to it. I could hardly have overestimated the importance of the work, but I felt that I must have greatly over- estimated its difficulty when I saw how quickly Cort- right picked it up. "Ever do anything like this before?" I asked. "Never." I could scarcely believe it. A glance at the work, a question or two, a second of thought, and then Cort- right 's pen would begin to move. And how it did move ! Standing at the extreme end of my long, high desk, taking up so little room that I seemed to have as much space to myself as ever, Cortright wrote and figured as I had never seen man do before. His pen- manship was good and he wrote rapidly, while at fig- uring he was remarkable. He was full of short cuts and many calculations he would do mentally before I had set down the first figures for the computation of them. I soon saw that within a few days' time Cort- right would be able to do the work of my desk better than I could do it, and a most un-Christian spirit of resentment took hold of me. But early in the after- 58 Clever Business Sketches noon my cup of bitterness became full to overflowing. About two o'clock old Ilarley burst in, crying sharply : "Cummings, you'll have to get the time sheets and come out into the shop. That fool, Deny, has got himself hurt and gone home. There's been no time taken this afternoon and you'll have to work it up. Let Cortright do what be can here while you're away. " Down came my pen with a force that sent ink spots flying in every direction; into the drawer went my sheets crumpled and mussed ; and slam went the drawer shut with a slam that had capsized the ink well but for Cortright 's quick grasp to save it. "Too bad, old chap, ,: said he. "Hope you're soon out of it." But I answered not, for my soul was filled with wrath. Grabbing my hat and a pad of time sheets, I fled out into the shop, whither old Ilarley had pre- ceded me. And there, amid the banging of the heavy hammers, the constant thudding of the rivet machines and the rattling and rumbling of the great cranes as they ran to and fro overhead ; there among the grimy machinists and the sweating, panting "hunkies," I put in what seemed to me the most miserable after- noon of my existence. How well it came back to me, the joy I had felt at being promoted from this same time-keepers' position! How proud 1 had been to become the newest and most insignificant of Harley's office force. Emergencies like the present had arisen before, yet never had I been called upon to leave my desk and "take time." But now — When I returned to the office all had left save Cort- right. He sat upon my high stool, leaning back against the desk and facing the doorway. In his mouth was a cigar, the first whiff of which convinced me it was of a different brand from what I usually smoked. A picture of graceful ease he was, and there by him on the desk lay, fully completed, the large "Daily Report" sheet, which was at once my pride and my despair. : ' Through with it at last ? " he asked, pleasantly. The Progress of a Gentleman 59 My reply was more forcible than it was relevant or civil. "Beastly job, I imagine,' 9 he commented. "Will you look over this report, and see if it is all right?" In form ami appearance, it certainly was. As to the correctness of the figures I had no doubt. "Who showed you?" I demanded. "No one. I had an idea of the drift of your work from what I saw this morning, so all I had to do was to hunt up yesterday's sheet, see how you carried the work and do the same with this. Does it seem to be all right?" Why ask? He knew very well it was all right, as well — nay, better done than 1 could do it. I grudg- ingly muttered assent. "Well, good night, then. I hope Derry will be back tomorrow." Why should he hope so? If he could fill my place for a few days, the quality of his work might insure his being retained there, while I — well, I suppose I should go back to time-keeping. Such was the jus- tice of the world in general and of the Carleton Iron Works in particular, I reflected. For a week Derry remained away and I took his place, while Cortright took mine. Every night he would wait for me to examine the report. I remon- strated against this, telling him he was quite compe- tent to do it, but he shook his head smilingily. "It is your work, you know," he said. "I'm only your understud}', and must submit my work to you. ' ' 1 refused to look over the sheets after this, but he waited for me just the same. One evening I came in quietly and went into the little wash room just off the office to clean up. Cortright neither saw nor heard me. A moment later a burly "hunky" entered and asked some question in broken English. "I really do not know," Cortright replied, "but Mr. Cummings will be here shortly. Probably he can tell you." The "hunky" growled something I could not catch, 60 Clever Business Sketches opened the gate, walked over to Watson's desk and began to fumble through his papers. "Look here, my friend," said Cortright; "do you see that sign? You're not allowed in here. Step out- side and wait for Mr. Cummings. " "No wait," growled the hunky. Cortright bouneed from his stool. "Get outside or I'll put you out," he commanded. "You no put me out, You go to " Just how it happened I could never tell, but the next second the "hunky" was over the railing and in a heap on the floor, thrown lliere by a slim youth twenty or thirty pounds below his weight. "If you attempt to come back I'll break you in half," said Cortright, cheerfully. And I have no doubt that he would have done so, but at this moment I stepped into the office, answered the man's question and saw him out. "How did you do it?" I asked. "That fellow is much heavier and looks twice as strong as you." "He probably is. It was not a case of strength, — just a case of know how." And so it was ever with Cortright. "Whatever his task, he seemed always to have the "know how." When Deny returned, I resumed my own place and Cortright was set to help Mullins, whose work was behind. "Guess that will keep you amused for a few days," commented old Ilarley. But so great was Cortright 's speed and so much increased was Mullins' own effort, unconsciously stimulated by Cortright 's example, that by evening Tom's work was "up to the minute." "What do you think of your gentleman now?" asked Cub, as we walked homeward together. "He's a smart fellow," Tom replied. "But we must not forget he's here simply on trial. After he is assured a permanent job, you'll see that his daily life will cease to be one continuous performance of grand-stand plays. ' ' 'Tom, I wouldn't have your disposition for all the wealth of Carnegie," retorted Cub. The Progress of a Gentleman 61 A few days later came the day on which the most reluctant of us went cheerfully to work, — the fort- nightly pay day. About ten o'clock a messenger from the cashier's office came in and proceeded silently to lay each man's envelope upon his desk; and each of us, hastily and with an assumption of indifference, crammed the envelope into his pocket, only to extract it again the first moment he was sure of being unob- served, rip it open, count the contents and place them lovingly in his poeketbook. Just why we did this I cannot say, but it was the invariable custom of every man in the office. "Your name Cortright?" the messenger demanded of our new recruit. Cortright assented. Then, making no motion to take the envelope extended to him, he asked, "What is it?" "Why, your pay envelope, of course." "Just take it back again and put it in the safe for the present, Avill you?" "What for? You had better take it." "I prefer not to take it." "Well, I'm not going to take it back, at any rate." The messenger was getting angry. "You may do as you please with it," replied Cort- right, coldly, as he turned again to his work. The messenger stood undecided for a moment, then stepped over and laid the envelope on Harley's desk. A moment later the chief came in. "Eh! What's this?" he cried. "Cortright, I guess this envelope is yours." Cortright stepped briskly over to him. "I suppose the messenger laid it there after I declined to take it, ' ' he said. ' ' Declined to take it ! Are you crazy ? ' ' "If you please, sir, there has been no agreement with me as to salary," Cortright explained, with a smile. "Until some agreement is made, I prefer not to accept any payments which may or may not be sat- isfactory." "Young man, jow. are likely to accept whatever pay- ments this concern offers you," bellowed Harley. 62 Clever Business Sketches "Probably I will." Cortright was neither fright- ened nor angry. "But 1 claim the right of being con- sulted first. If my ideas regarding salary do not co- incide with those of Mr. Clarke, or whoever has the deciding of it, it is more to the purpose if I kick be- fore accepting a payment than if I do so afterwards. Will you tell me the rate at which that payment is figured?" "Don't know," growled Ilarley. ""Will you be so kind as to open the envelope and see?" "Open it and see, yourself." "I beg to be excused." I glanced cautiously at the boss, expecting an ex- plosion. Ilarley 's temper was never angelic; and when aroused to wrath he was sublimely terrible. At that moment he looked as though he were about to devour the calm, smiling, yet respectful young man who stood before him. Suddenly his face relaxed. "Well, I'm damned!" he exclaimed. "Get back to your work." On the following Monday morning Cortright was not at the office when we arrived, but old Ilarley was, and he glared so balefully at each of us as we came in, at the same time glancing ostentatiously at the clock, that every man sought his own desk speedily, and plunged at once into his work. As soon as the chief left for his daily tour of inspection around the works. each of us turned involuntarily to the others and asked, "Where's Cortright?" Nobody knew, but before we left that night we had startling news of him. The six o'clock whistle had blown; the thud and clang and rattle of the great shop had subsided ; the tired, grimy toilers were is- suing from its doors on their way homeward, and we were just preparing to follow them, when we were arrested by a word from old Ilarley, who, in defiance of his usual custom, was still at his desk. "One moment, gentlemen," said the chief, and at so extraordinary an address from that grim official, every man stood as though rooted to the spot. ' ' This The Progress of a Gentleman 63 morning I received a call for a clerk from the General Office. You know they are rather particular up there." Didn't we know it! On the last occasion of such a call Mullins had been sent up, he being senior clerk in point of service. But at the end of a three days' trial he had been sent down again in disgrace, where- by the prestige of our office was greatly reduced. "I sent up Cortright, for two reasons," proceeded Uarley. "One, because 1 can best spare him, he hav- ing no regular desk here ; the other, because he seems to possess several of the requisite qualifications of a good clerk, not the least of which is punctuality, — a fact which it will be well for you all to bear in mind. Good night, gentlemen." For several minutes we walked in silence. For once Mullins could say nothing. He had had his chance. At last Cub blurted out, "Serves him right!" "I hope he'll suit them," I added. "Of course he will," cried Tom. Such namby- pamby, soft-spoken fellows as he always do suit. He'll know how to toady and curry favor up there." "Toady! Why, he has more independence and nerve in a second than you'll have in your whole life," replied Cub. "Just look how he stuck out about his pay " "Oh, of course, that episode appeals to you," sneered Tom. "To win your admiration, it is only necessary to perform some such theatrical piece of business as that." 'Well, if he has in any way won my admiration, it is more than you have ever done." "For which, believe me, 1 am duly thankful," was Tom's retort, as he left us at the corner of his street. Some two weeks after this, old Harley called me to his desk. "They need another clerk up at the General Office," he said. "Ball says to send you, if I can spare you, which means I must spare you. You will report there at once." 64 Clever Business Sketches "But my work here," I said. Surely my place could not be filled at a moment's notice, I thought. "Oh, we'll make shift to manage that. Go along and good luck to you." Old Harley was never dis- concerted. I verily believe that if every clerk in his office had suddenly dropped dead, the old man would have "made shift" to get the work out somehow just the same. At the General Office I found all in confusion. Workmen were tearing down the partition that for- merly separated the chief clerk's office from that oc- cupied by the billing department. Desks were being moved and everything was being rearranged. Quickly I learned that Mr. Clous, the chief clerk, had been stricken down with an incurable disease, and that his office was now to be consolidated with the billing department, all under the head of Mr. Ball, hereto- fore chief of the latter. "When we were settled I found that Ball had assumed Clous' old desk, while Cort- right had taken the one just vacated by Ball. And with the desk, he had taken on practically all of the work formerly done by Ball. I also noticed that when- ever Ball found himself in difficulty, as happened not infrequently, owing to his unfamiliarity with the new work, it was to Cortright he invariably went for as- sistance. The man who had been Clous' assistant ap- parently resented having Ball replaced over his head, for, instead of trying to make things run smoothly for his new chief, he seemed to try deliberately to multiply his difficulties. So it came about on the very first day of the new order that the former chief clerk 's assistant was relegated down to the place of a minor clerk, while Cortright occupied the position of right- hand man to Ball. And I, having been passed by Cortright at a single bound, felt no little satisfaction in seeing him pass others as readily. I waited that evening for Cortright, he being, as usual, the last to leave his desk. "I have a suspicion that I owe this promotion to a kindly word spoken by you," I said. "And if you will permit me to thank you, Mr. Cortright " The Progress of a Gentleman 65 "For the convenience of my friends," he inter- rupted, "I was christened Frank." "Well, Frank, I am very grateful to you." "Don't speak of it, old chap. T only told the truth about you as I know it. You deserved to come here ahead of me." But I could not listen to that, knowing it to be un- true. CHAPTER II. When I became familiar with the work in my new position, 1 was surprised to find the methods prevail- ing in that office were very antiquated. In handling the work that had formerly pertained to Clous' of- fice the utter lack of system was appalling. Cort- right soon suggested several improvements, but Ball, who lacked decision and initiative, failed to put them into practice. Our office was next to that of Mr. Clarke, the Gen- eral Manager, who frequently strolled through our room, watching the clerks at their work. One day he stopped by Cortright's desk for several moments. Sud- denly he asked: "How are you getting on with your new work?" "All right, sir, I believe." "Getting familiar with Mr. Clous' system, are you?" "His what?" Cortright's tone was unmistakable, but the manager did not understand, or pretended that he did not. ' 'Why, his system, his method," he repeated. "I was not aware that he had any," said Cortright, calmly. It seemed like impudence, but Cortright told me afterwards that the chance was too good a one to lose. However, nothing came of it, — at least, not then, — for Mr. Clarke stood for a moment in silence, then walked on. For some months things moved along in their usual course, and then one day the stenographer who did Mr. Clarke's work failed to appear. A letter came M Clever Business Sketches stating that he was ill. Out came Mr. Clarke into our office. "Mr. Ball, can any of your clerks do typewriting?" he demanded. "I can, sir," spoke up Cortright. "Shorthand?" "Yes, sir; though I'm a bit out of practice." "Come along, then. Mr. Ball, I shall need him the rest of the day." But in an hour Cortright was out again and ham- mering away at the typewriter so fast that I could not do my work, but must needs sit staring at him in stupid wonder. In an hour and a half more he had his letters all transcribed; in another fifteen minutes Cortright had gotten them signed and was back again at his desk. My own work kept me unusually late that night, and as 1 rose from my desk Cortright was just quitting his. The other clerks had gone. "So you've worked at stenography, have you?" I asked. His laugh rang out loud and clear. "No, upon my soul, I never did. Picked it up, though — home study, you know. I was afraid I'd flunk today, but I carried the bluff through, didn't I?" ' ' Flunk ! Bluff ! " I cried. ' ' Don 't play the hypo- crite to me. You knew very well you were fit and you've just been sitting there, waiting for your chance." "And if I have, what then?" "Oh, nothing. Only I don't see how you ever man- aged to become so perfect without daily practice." "That reminds me, you've never been up to my rooms. Have you anything on for tonight?" "No." "Well, come up, then, and I'll show you my talis- man." I cannot say I was surprised at what I found in Cortright 's rooms, for one naturally expected that things of his would be different from those of the com- mon herd. His rooms consisted of a bedroom and one other, which appeared to be parlor, sitting and The Progress of a Gentleman 67 workshop combined. In this latter room was a bay window of goodly size, in which stood a couch of ample proportions, overhung with oriental draperies and lit- erally smothered in cushions of all shapes, sizes and colors. Upon the wall hung pictures of men, women, dogs, horses and boats, all mingling indiscriminately together. Above a picture of a most villainous look- ing bulldog hung a dainty girl's glove; over a photo- graph of an exceptionally pretty girl was a pair of soiled and worn boxing gloves, while beneath the pic- ture of a sedate and clerical looking gentleman reposed a pair of foils. In one corner stood a guitar and a banjo; in another a typewriter. In the center of a large library table rested a Family Bible, and next to it an open box of cigars. Upon a pile of "Christian Heralds" reposed a copy of "Hoyle's Games," while against the wall stood a cabinet containing wine and spirits, upon which, however, was displayed a card bearing the legend, "To be used only in case of fire." But what interested me most of all was Cortright's books. Histories, novels, and works of science there were, but the majority of them were books pertaining to modern business and its "attendant sciences," as Cortright was pleased to call them. Books on com- mercial law, books on accounting, on stenography, a large "Business Encyclopedia"; several periodicals devoted to the interests of various trades, all were there, together with innumerable circulars and cata- logues of card-systems and loose-leaf book systems. "This," said Cortright, with a comprehensive wave of his hand, ' ' is my play room. " "And these, I suppose," indicating his books, "are your playthings. " "Correct. And glorious playthings they are. The study of modern business and its methods is a most complex and fascinating one. Once a devotee at the shrine of this art, there is no recanting. My goddess is an exacting one, — no half-hearted worship for her, — yet how generously she rewards her true follow- ers." Then he dived into his books and began explaining 68 Clever Business Sketelies their purposes with great enthusiasm. And I, car- ried away by the fascination and novelty of it all, was no less eager than he, so that it was long past midnight when I started for home. As we parted, Cortright held out his hand to me in his frank, boyish fashion and said cordially, "All my belongings are at your disposal, old chap. If you care to turn up here and make use of my books, you will be very welcome. Come every night if you will." And so it came about that I became an almost night- ly visitor at Cortright 's rooms. Many were the topics we discussed, many the researches we made. If I be- came involved in an intricate problem, Cortright was ever ready and able to help me through it. Acting upon his suggestion, 1 took up stenography and soon, with his help, I began to make progress. One night, feeling how much benefit I was receiving and not wish- ing to reserve all the good unto myself, I ventured a suggestion. "Frank, there is a young fellow of our acquaintance who is full of ambition," I said. "I'm sure he would be mighty glad of such a chance as you've given me. He's a capable chap and is, moreover, a great admirer of you." "A man of great discernment," he smiled. "Who is he?" "Cub Calker." "What, Cub, the irrepressible! Well, I'll ask him up some night." Procrastination was unknown to Cortright. Next evening Cub was admitted to our circle. I had not misjudged his desire to improve himself, for he en- tered upon our studies with such zeal that he soon caught up with me. About this time the business of the Carleton Iron Works increased largely, and Cortright 's services as stenographer came more and more into demand, until soon we saw him installed as secretary to Mr. Clarke. A vacancy thus occurring in the office, Cub Calker was brought up to fill it. He soon found favor with Mr. Ball, and gradually came to stand in much the The Progress of a Gentleman G9 same relation to him as Cortright had formerly occu- pied. And Cortright so' well availed himself of his opportunities for grasping every detail of the man- agement of the business that when, eighteen months after he became Mr. Clarke's secretary, the Carelton works absorbed another plant and Clarke became su- perintendent over all, it followed, as a matter of course, that Cortright should become manager at Carleton. Gratification and pride are poor words to describe the sensation I felt when he called me to be- come his secretary and confidential man. I felt sure that as soon as Cortright could effect it, a change in our office methods would be made. For a month he made no sign, but one evening when we were at Cortright 's rooms, he turned suddenly to Cub and asked, "How would you like to become chief clerk?" "Why, what's to become of Ball?" cried Cub. "I couldn't push him out, you know." "I appreciate your feeling. It does you credit," said Cortright, gravely. "But Ball has been offered another position and has decided to accept it. You will therefore become chief clerk. Cummings, you will continue as my secretary, but I shall expect you to co-operate with Calker and myself in reforming our office methods." Whenever Cortright addressed us by our surnames we knew he was speaking as chief to subordinates. In this mood he was as far removed from us as the sun is from the earth. We realized the gulf which sepa- rated us, and sought not to pass it. Accordingly it transpired that Ball retired and Cub Calker reigned in his stead. And then came the upheaval. The first things to go were the old low desks for the clerks and accountants, they being re- placed by broad, high desks at which a man could work more comfortably and to better advantage. Then the old books and files disappeared, and in their place came modern loose-leaf books, card-systems and filing cases, to suit which our entire method was changed, so that within a month we had fewer clerks in the 70 Clever Business Sketches office, but those few were turning out the work more promptly and better done than ever before. The next step was to advance the salaries of those clerks who remained, whereupon clerks became more cheerful and energetic. Our system worked like a huge clock and the office became a source of satisfaction* and pride to all concerned. During the next two years no material change oc- curred, nor did any event transpire beyond what might be expected in the ordinary course of conduct- ing a great business ; but in the third year of Cort- right 's management, the United States Steel Corpora- tion was formed, and our plant became one of its in- tegral parts. At first I was a trifle uneasy, fearing that changes whereby I would lose rather than profit might be made; but I soon found that Cortright's management was satisfactory to the higher powers, and as long as he remained at the helm I felt secure. My fears were re-awakened, however, one afternoon when Cortright summoned me and announced that he was leaving for New York on the 7 :05 train. "I must take someone with me," he said. "Can you make it?" The question was superfluous. "What's up? "I gasped. "Can't tell till I get there." His tone betrayed neither fear nor hope. "Run home and get your bag. We'll dine on the train." We dined in silence, and in silence we sat and smoked through the long evening hours as the train rushed on. Finally we sought our berths, but little could I sleep, for my soul was filled with forebodings of disaster. Changes would be made, I was sure, and the policy of the corporation tended toward a reduc- tion of expenses. To my mind the conclusion was obvious. Our train had hardly come to a standstill in the Grand Central Depot next morning when Cortright had me in a cab and soon we were whirling down town through the pulsing heart of the great city. Ar- rived at the company's offices, Cortright left me in an The Progress of a Gentleman 71 anteroom, while he went to consult with someone who was expecting him. I waited an almost interminable time, every moment growing more nervous and ap- prehensive, and had just about reached the conclusion that my path thenceforth would be down hill, when Cortright appeared in the doorway and beckoned me. Mechanically I followed him and soon found myself standing in a handsome office room, where Cortright, after a hasty word of introduction, left me. So nerv- ous was I that I failed to catch Cortright 's words, but the moment I glanced at the man to whom he had pre- sented me I realized that I was in the presence of him who had been chosen to bear the burden of the chief executive office of this giant among industries. "With a smile, the great man rose and extended his hand cordially. "I am glad to know you, Mr. Cum- mings. Sit down." I sat. In fact, my knees were so shaky it is a won- der I did not collapse sooner. But as I sat before him 1 found myself growing calmer. The president sat regarding me for some moments, his eye seeming to penetrate the secrets of my life ; yet was there noth- ing disquieting in the gaze. His very person seemed to exhale a spirit of confidence and strength. Those who came in contact with this man could not fail to unconsciously mould their minds in some measure to his qualities. And he was gravely courteous in man- ner, as I have ever found those men to be who are really great ; for it is only the small-natured, incom- petents who never have time for politeness. ''You have been some time at the Carleton plant, I understand," he said at last. "Twenty-eight years," I replied. "And you began, I believe, as a time-kee'per and have worked up to your present position?" I nodded assent. "That is a point in your favor." He is trying to let me down easily, I thought. "You are a young man." "Forty-six," I retorted. I wished I could have said sixty-six. But he waved my answer aside. 72 Clever Business Sketches "Young men are what we need in some positions," he continued. Minor positions, thought I. "We are very well satisfied with Mr. Cortright's management, but " Now it was coming! I wondered if 1 had not better bolt. "But we need him hero." Hurrah ! It was all right, then. "Would they keep me here with Cortright? I leaned forward in breath- less eagerness. "It is our wish that the management of the Carleton plant be continued along the same lines as followed by Mr. Cortright. He informs me that you are thor- oughly conversant with all the details of his methods. The question, therefore, is whether you will accept the position of manager at Carleton?" AVould I accept it? Imagine St. Peter asking some poor lost soul if he desired admission to Paradise. "Very well, then," smiled the president, rising. "Hunt up Mr. Cortright now. He will give you defi- nite instructions. And drop in here again before you leave." ###### It is not my intention to set forth a list of the diffi- culties that beset my new path, nor yet to record the blunders that I made, — that there were many of both, you may believe, — so we will come down to an event the memory of which will ever remain with me. The occasion is a dinner to which Cub Calker has bidden us on the eve of his becoming a benedict. At the head of the table sits Cub, no longer chief clerk at Carleton, but superintendent of another plant in a distant city. At the other end sits old Harley, stern and grim no longer, but a genial, mellow old gentleman who has retired to live upon the savings of his years of fru- gality and toil. Around the board sit Watson, Mul- lins, Hughes, Henderson, a few other old comrades of former years, and myself. The dishes have been cleared away, cigars lighted, and Cub Calker rises to address us. The Progress of a Gentleman 7:5 "Boys, I have a letter from one I had expected to be with us. He says: "I cannot tell you how disappointed 1 am at boinj^ unable to attend your farewell dinner to the friends of your bachelor days. 1 had expected to be present, but the stern finger of duly is pointing me in another direct ion, and I may not disobey. But, while I can- not be at the dinner, I shall surely arrive in time for the wedding. I would come clear across the conti- nent for th.il event, and I shall expect no less of you on the occasion of my own wedding, which will occur at no very distant date. Some New York society bud. did you say ? Wrong, my boy. She lives in dear old Carleton, the home of my youth, wherein rest the sweetest memories of my life. I shall defer my con- gratulations until I can again grasp your hand. Re- member me to all the boys. God bless you all.' "I need not tell you the writer's name," goes on Cub. "He is the one who, above all others, we are proud and happy to call our friend, — the man whom we have seen rise from a small beginning to the posi- tion which his genius and sterling worth entitle him to occupy." "Genius nothing!" breaks in Mullins. "Why, the man is simply ' "Shut up, Tom!" commands Cub. "We all know how steeped your soul is in pessimism. Enjoy your own sordid thoughts if you will, but don't inflict them upon us." And now old Harley is on his feet, wine glass in one hand, the other raised to command silence. "Gentlemen," he says, "I rise to propose a toast, — toasts, 1 was about to say, but as I am an advocate of abstemiousness I shall name them together and let you drink them in one glass. Old codgers like myself take great pride in watching the successful careers of those with whom we have labored, whom we have helped to guide, in their youth. I count no man more fortunate in his young friends than myself. May the futures of these men be no less glorious than their past and pres- ent. Our interest, our good wishes, our affection go '74 Clever Business Sketches ever with them. Gentlemen, I give you Frank Cort- right and Leonard Calker, — the one as true and loyal a gentleman, the other as brave and bonny a lad as ever trod the face of God's green earth." With a shout we are on our feet. Our glasses click against each other. We raise them to our lips, — but no, old Ilarlcy is waving us down frantically, and we, who have not forgotten how we used to tremble at his frown, sink back into our chairs as he shouts : "Down ! Sit down, you guzzlers. Are your throats cracking with thirst that you cannot wait until I finish my toast? I was about to say, when you so rudely interrupted me, that to these two names I would join the name of him who has shared in their toils, their struggles and their triumphs, — a man whom we have seen rise from the lowest position in the Carleton Iron Works to the very " But here, gentle reader, modesty impels me to draw the curtain. THE BOOKKEEPER: HIS ACCURACY. A Rough-Edged Satire. BY ELWOOD S. BROWN. Illustrations by Parkinson. The bookkeeper views life from two sides, the debit and the credit. Instinctively, and usually uncon- sciously, every little sight he sees and every little act he performs is labeled "debit" or "credit." Thus, a hairy, mangy, rib-protruding cur, yelping at the height of his miserable lungs, is a "debit" dog, while a powerful, handsome, massive St. Bernard may be called a "credit" canine. Considered in a larger and more personal way, the bookkeeper's daily life may be divided along similar lines. When he goes to bed in the wee, small hours of the morning, walking like a question mark; when he awakens with a splitting, cracking headache, necessitating that great alleviator of modern civilized suffering, the ice pack, when he acquires the dark-brown, Godless taste in his mouth, making all food seem like putty mixed with sawdust and flavored with linseed oil ; when he goes down to work, dragging his limbs along as if they weighed a ton; when he makes a faint-hearted effort really to do some work and finds his mind dull and blue, with its energy completely sapped — then he is entering every item on the debit side of his life — his character — his soul. But when, on the contrary, he arises from a deep sleep with the bound of a leopard, goes to his meal with the appetite of a long-fasting boa-con- strictor, speeds to his work, every atom of his body alive with buoyant energy, plunges into his tasks with the enthusiasm of a mining stock floater — then, ah, then, the credit side gets the entries. Everyone of us carries some kind of balance, debit or credit. For every blue, morbid, soulless "debit" thought there should be a larger "credit" one of up- 75 76 Clever Business Sketches vy The Bookkeeper — Ills Accuracy 77 lifting optimism and radiant cheer. And then we should leara to distinguish exactly what things ;ire debit and what credit. A ham sandwich to a healthy man usually is a credit entry; into the poor, miser- able dyspeptic it. would heller ndt be entered at all. The bookkeeper is hounded by a ledger, a pile of statements, a long row of figures and a worried look. Most noticeable and constant is the worried look. At any time of the day the casual observer may note the deep, furrowed lines, the wrinkling eyebrows, the nervous twitchings and the many other disastrous symptoms caused by the deadly struggles with the trial balance. The trial balance is a relic of the in- quisition. The beginner in the mysteries of accounts would far rather endure the rack with its actual, visible, physical torture than this dreaded, terrorizing, invisible ogre of treacherous figures. The subject is so intense that it is worthy of metaphor. As the thun- der clouds of a tornado swoop over the doomed ham- let of Kansas carrying destruction in their paths, so the sable-lined depressions of the trial balance darken and destroy the spirits of a novice in the field of ac- counting. Is it a wonder that the nerves of so many bookkeepers break down in the long, arduous strain of making the monthly reckoning? It takes the cour- age of a St. George to conquer in the combat. In a sympathetic and charitable frame of mind let us calmly and dispassionately analyze and dissect our lovable and confiding friend, the bookkeeper. In fig- ure he is usually slight, with a tendency to stoop. This is due to the fact that his stamina has been directed to the upbuilding of and maintaining a tremendous, intense, rapid-calculating brain. His face, though somewhat drawn, is kindly but incisive; he looks as if he fed on much pepper and high seasonings. He suggests the keen blade of a knife. He looks mental and mathematical rather than vital. His penetrating glance suggests a brain, nourished on fractions, loga- rithms and syllogisms. Long, lean hands, delicate and refined, indicate the nervous sensitive tempera- ment. He is clean, immaculately clean, physically, 78 Clever Business Sketclies "His cleanliness borders upon the supernatural" mentally and morally, and the only creature who can handle red ink, a bad pen and a rough edged ruler without blotting the page. His cleanliness borders on the supernatural. His method of working is very appealing, and many a time have I stood in a state of dumb marvel watch- ing him add a column of figures from three to six feet long. Here is the way he does it, and it is exquisitely fascinating: He takes his pencil between his fingers, draws a deep breath, catches his mental stride and is off. With the speed of a runaway automobile that deft hand shoots up the line, as with superhuman abil- ity he annexes singles, doubles, triplets and certainly combinations of greater number in mad haste. His eyes blink at the top ; he relaxes for an instant ; sets down a little figure with 42 to carry, and is off again. The Bookkeeper — His Accuracy 79 How he ever got the 42 to carry I do not know. I never could find it in my head or out, though I added it up at least fifteen times getting anywhere from 27 to 72 to carry. It was the largest single chunk of brain produce ever I witnessed. In desperation I di- vided the column into ten different installments and came within 3 of the correct solution, which being so small a difference and not worth fighting over, I let go. I would back that man against the best adding ma- chine in the country, for the machine might break down ; he never will. The great, essential, predominating virtue of the accountant is accuracy. Accuracy is the god of the business world, and to him every competent "book- keep" bows his humble knee in homage. An account- ant friend of mine in a bank makes less than one mis- take a year ; in fact, he divides it between three years on the average, and then his eyesight is responsible. I would match him with perfection and take an even bet. He is so accurate he can walk a block without getting a half-inch deviation from a straight line. His hair is parted so exactly in the middle that a square and compass cannot find a fractional error in the symmetry. His language is so perfectly concise and accurate that you know the exact time and the identical place that anything he ever did or saw took place. He wakes every morning at 6 :13 1-2 without effort, breakfasts at 6 :43 on 3 1-2 pieces of toast and 1 3-7 cups of coffee, walks to town and reports at 7 :57 for business. The bookkeeper finds it as important to correct an error of three cents as one of two million dollars. Often you will note one laboring away with the per- spiration streaming over his face, hour after hour toil- ing to find an error of two cents. The smaller the mistake the more it worries him. A couple of thou- sands out of the way is inconsequential, but five cents wrong — heaven help him — is a fearful catastrophe. He will spend $10 worth of time to correct it if it is on the wrong side of the ledger and $20 if the infin- itesimal balance is on the right side. A friend of 80 Clever Business Sketches mine once said to him, "Let it go. Pay it or pocket it yourself , or charge it to profit and loss. ' ' A ghastly look came into the bookkeeper's eyes and he clutched at his breast in terror at the thought. The act doubt- less would have killed him, for that five cents meant 5-10 of his pride, and he was prouder than Lucifer at his zenith. One day a friend of his added 13 to 52 and made 75. How he did it is beyond my powers of com- prehension, but at any rate the bookkeeper went into a dead faint, requiring the smelling salts and chafing of the hands to bring him to. For a time he was threatened with brain fever and muttered incoher- ently "13 plus 52 equals 75." His moaning was piti- ful as his mistakeless brain reeled against the horror. One of the wonderful features of bookkeeping to the uninitiated (and I regret that I belong to that number) is the vast sum that is carried on the books. A little concern, possibly doing from $4.87 to $6.73 a day had a tremendous account of six figures that re- quired pondering over and wrestling with monthly. Four cents tacked on to $832,756 always looked to me as a trifle out of its proper class. They told me the books had been running since the Deelaration of Inde- pendence and some of the accounts bearing eight per cent interest. The next feature of the bookkeeper for considera- tion is his system. This often borders on, the mar- velous: "John, please tell me the amount and items of goods sold to Thomas & Sons about six years ago. Give me such details as you have." John knows his business. He whips out the six- year-old ledger, a like aged journal and cash book, and in less than twelve seconds he has the account, itemized, specialized, notes as to time of payment, etc. It always paralyzes the easy-going business mail with wonder. System, system, the regulator of the uni- verse, what a wonder it is! The competent book- keeper usually knows more about a firm's business than the entire board of directors together. Ordi- narily he has every little detail, cost, ovory tiny item of expense, every molecular, infinitesimal transaction The Bookkeeper — 11 is Accuracy 81 X>P* rki ritSorLs- "A couple of thousand out of the way is of no consequence" at his systematic command. And he is as certain as death. A bookkeeper in a bank is more reliable than facts. You can back him against certainty. Did you ever think your bank book was incorrectly balanced? Per- haps you went over it five or six times, carefully and as you thought, accurately, and gradually your ire waxed strong and you determined upon a mild form of murder. You hastened to the bank, rolled out your carpet and endeavored to put the bookkeeper thereon. Coolly and collectedly he looked through your ac- count, said it was perfectly correct and went over the operation with you carefully. You erred somewhere, and triumphantly he won. while you swallowed your pride and apologized as best you could. Don't fool with fate; it is a losing game. The all-around bookkeeper of the smaller, live of- 82 Clever Business Sketches fice is a nine-days' wonder. Yon, as manager, fire in details, right and left, promiscuously and miscellane- ously, rarely knowing under what heading they come, lie takes in every little one, segregates it, classifies it and puts it in place as accurately as time itself. His mind is pigeon-holed with orderly compartments and he has room for everything without crowding. The bookkeeper is often viewed in the light of a drudge or a plodder. The question frequently enters one's mind as to whether or not he really can enjoy his work. Wherein does the adding of sevens to sixes and threes to lives give pleasure? "Wherein does the never-ending digging, digging for trivialities give zest or joy? Can there be any real interest in making out bills, statements, receipts, balances and the like? What satisfaction is there in knowing that Harry Smith, with an account of $12.85, has paid $7.85. and has $5 to come; that, if he pays, say $2.50 in three months, as he likely will in order to keep peace with the house and get new credit and then orders further goods to the extent of $17.25, his outstanding bill will be $10.75? Where is there anything worth the while in such knowledge? What value is it and of what real profit? Of what use is it to add up row after row of figures, meaningless figures, to plod day after day, month after month, year after year, and then finally drop out for a younger man? Is the game worth the candle, worth the responsibility, aye, worth the reproach that often may be administered.' The answer is this: With all the drudgery of a hard, honest job there is mixed a thrill of pleasure for work- well done, for responsibility well taken care of, \'i>v knowledge, yes, knowledge of detail, well learned for a struggle fought to a long hard finish. The knowledge that the manager can depend to the last figure on everything quoted him by the competent bookkeeper is a source of real pleasure. A good, loyal bookkeeper thrills when an old account, one of those doubt fid, longstanding heirlooms, comes in paid, even with the dust of ages clinging to it; paid in full and the account balances. And there is a thrill in show- The Bookkeeper — His Accuracy 83 ing a neat, clean ledger, properly red-inked, the fig- ures legible and rounding, bearing witness to infinite eare and thoroughness. And there is still a greater 1 in-ill when that trial balance conies out right the first time, evidencing difficult work well performed. This article is intended to be a satire, but our friend. the patient, care-taking bookkeeper, often so little ap- preciated, is deserving of better treatment. And he does not want to be treated, either, as martyr to the business world. The bookkeeper in our office is a genius, a mathe- matical paragon. She can add three rows of figures at a time, multiply by instinct, divide by intuition, and subtract by mental telegraphy. Her figures combine beauty and legibility in a delightful way. She can make two or three hundred statements and as many receipts with one part of her mind and figure out the next payroll with another. She indulges in figures with the avidity of a ten-year-old boy for pumpkin pie. Her recreation consists in adding diagonally and at right angles, and in subtracting backwards. She is a juggler of numbers and has all the short cuts cut in two. Ordinarily the shortest distance between two points is a straight line — she skips it, starting here and being there with nothing between.. Her special delight is the cash book, though she takes great joy in the journal, often memorizing the entire entries for the month. Many a time have I seen her rapturously poring over the outstanding accounts, committing their rates, amounts and items to memory with the accuracy of an Aristotle. She knows them far better than the de- linquents, and we endeavor usually to keep them vividly reminded of their disgraces. Joy? She gets a full quota of that substance in its most ethereal form and fairly fattens on it. Who invented the art and science of bookkeeping? What great, overmastering mind thought out the mys- teries of ledger, journal, posting and balancing? Doubtless it has come down from the ages, hallowed in the minds of the prehistoric "bookkeeps" as it is 84 Clever Business Sketches in those of today. Imagine the old inhabitants of the Stone Age cleaving with chisel and mallet, monthly balances of the large firms of their day. Picture to your minds the writers on parchments preparing roll after roll of figures in their hunt for the proper total. Why did not that great Greek sculptor, Phidias, mould a marble form of the head "bookkeep" of the Athen- ian age that we of today might look upon a real war- rior of old? May the bookkeeper fight on as the modern hero must, facing every task with a courage invincible, conquering every dry, uninteresting, tasteless task with the enthusiasm born of true bravery and strug- gling, always struggling upward to the heights. THE PHANTOM BOOKKEEPER. BY CHARLES A. SWEETLAND. "Although not in the same old way," I am still the bookkeeper of the firm of Preston & King. At one time — it dues not seem so very lung ago — there appeared tu be some danger of losing my posi- tion, and being succeeded by a ghost. Fortunately for me, I captured the "spook," or rather was captured by it, and a permanent stop was put upon its myste- rious actions. This is how it occurred:. I had been working quite hard and was not feeling my best when the first visitation occurred. One morn- ing I was too ill (with a splitting headache and bad cold) to go down town, so I succeeded in bribing the thirteen-year-old son of my landlady to send off two telephone messages, one to inform the firm of my in- ability to perfurm my usual duties and the other to my physician. I was in bed two days. Upon the third day I re- ported to the store with the unpleasant anticipation of the extra work which I would find necessary to per- form in order to catch up with the constant grind of business. Imagine my surprise to find that someone had been at my books and that all of the two previous days' business was properly entered, and all of the posting done up to date. "Brewster, who has kept my books up while I was off?" I asked of the bill clerk. "I have not noticed a soul touch them," replied Brewster; "Mr. Preston made some entries of cash received, upon slips, and hung them on your file; that is all." I looked around carefully. I could find no slips. I asked the stenographer if he had noticed anyone at my books. He said, to his certain knowledge, the books had not been out of the safe, during either of the two days of my absence. 1 was properly puzzled. 85 86 Clever Business Sketches I looked over, went over, and checked over until I was dizzy, hoping perhaps to find a clue to my as- sistant, but everything was right as a trivet. The handwriting of the various entries was new to me. I compared it carefully with that of every person i mployed in thr house, but could not find one which was, in any measure, Like it. I did not speak to either of the firm, as I could not tell how they would relish the idea of a third party (and an unknown party, at ili.it i, having access to my books. I confess I was worried. However, my work was done, and well done, so I could not, with justice, com- plain. It was on the third day after this occurrence that something happened which added to my mystifi- cation. About three o'clock one afternoon there was sud- denly a number of sharp raps heard, emanating from my desk. They could be heard distinctly in any part of the office. What's in your desk, Stanhope, spook?" cried Brewster. I answered negatively, with a laugh, but, remem- bering the peculiar occurrence of which 1 had been able to obtain no explanation, but of which I had kept my own counsel, 1 was really not quite so positive. Spiritualism had always appeared to me an arrant "fake"; the most untenable of all "isms," and I made up my mind to discover, if possible, in what Datura] maimer my books had been kept for me during my absence, as I was very loth to believe that there was anything supernatural about it. The rapping continued, from time to time, for sev- eral days. 1 searched for the cause, but at that time, failed to discover it. In order to test "his ghost- ship" more fully, I asked for leave of absence to visit some relatives in a neighboring state. It was freely granted, so I lefl the city Saturday night, and did not return until the oexl Thursday evening. Yon may be sure thai the first thing I did, upon my appearance a1 the office Friday morning, was to look over my books, to ascertain whether or not my The Phantom Bookkeeper 87 strange helper had kept busy. As before I found every entry properly made, and all of the posting up to date. I was more bewildered than ever. I thought se- riously of asking a year's vacation, letting the "pban- tom" do my work, but I was afraid, if I put so much labor upon "his higbness" he might insist upon draw- ing my salary as well, an alternative I could not con- template with equanimity. All of my inquiries failed to throw any light upon the subject. No one in the office or store had seen a hand upon my books during my absence, and yet the work was done, and beautifully done. The mysterious rappings occurred at intervals, as if to remind me that my spirit comrade was with me, ever. Oh, how I sympathized with him, when I took this view of it. Bad enough, heaven knows, to be obliged to keep books during life, but after one has shaken off this mortal coil and expects better things, ugh! I determined to solve the tantalizing mystery, if possible, as it was robbing me of sleep, and causing crow's feet, and gray hairs, if I could believe my friends. As everyone united in asserting that my books were never out of the safe during the day, I made up my mind that the "ghost" must do his work at night. I determined, forthwith, to lay a trap to catch the visitor unaware. I carefully greased my door key, and the tumblers of the lock, as well. I had rubber heels and soles put on my shoes, so that I could creep in without noise, as I had read that spirits were very easily frightened. When all was prepared I became suddenly indisposed again, telephoning the fact to the office, as before. Of course I was in sufficient good health, by eve- ning, to pursue my investigations. I placed a revolver in my pocket, loaded with "dum-dum" bullets, as I had heard that ghosts were hard to annihilate. When all my preparations were completed I made my way to the vicinity of the store. As I approached the store I discerned a bright light 88 C1< r< r Business Sketches shining from the windows of the office. The "phan- tom'" was evidently unable to do good work in the darkness. It was ten o'clock, or perhaps a little be- fore lh.it hour. I crepl around to the side door. Using all of the i i utiori a1 my command, 1 inserted the greased key and unlocked the door. The bolt slipped back noise- lessly, ;nid allowed me to enter without attracting any attention. The office was at the rear of the store, so I tip-toed slowly and carefully to the glass partition; then, standing on a low box, I stretched my neck and peered over. As anticipated, all of my books were spread open upon the desk, but there was not a per- son in sight. I dropped back from my strained posi- tion and as I did so I heard a noise which sounded very like a pen scratching over the paper. Now I would catch him. The Phantom was making an entry. I raised myself and looked again. No one was at the desk, although the scratching noise continued. I could not see the floor. After thinking a moment, I determined to enter the office. As 1 carefully swung the door open I saw — that which, in my overwrought state, almost trans- lixi'd me. 1 saw tin; figure of a man, upon his knees, before the cash safe. His hack was toward me, but I could see that the outer doors were open, and that he had mastered the inner combination. It was the clicking of the discs, as they revolved, which I had heard; the noise which had seemed to me like so many pen scratches. The safe was in the corner of the office, farthest from the door, close to the manager's desk". It stood in such a manner that anyone opening it must do so with his back toward the door of the office. If this was my ghostly assistant, he was evidently bent upon collecting his salary. In times of sudden nerve-tension thoughts fly rap- idly. As [ tried mentally to determine my best course of action, I saw Hie man reach into the inner safe, The Phantom Bookkeeper 89 seize a good-sized bundle of bills and stow them away in his capacious pocket. If I raised the alarm the robber stood a good chance of getting away. Ji" I tried to ring for the police, he would certainly escape, and very likely shoot me, in the bargain. If I used my revolver, which 1 held in my hand, I ran the risk of missing him, as I was none the best of shots, and the light was uncertain. At the report he might (if a spirit) evaporate into thin air. Besides these objec- tions, I had a natural antipathy to shooting a man when he was down; and in the back, too. No, I would not do it. I finally made up my mind, much quicker than it has taken to tell it. I would try and overpower, and capture the man. His position was such that I would have every advantage. 1 was quite an athlete, and felt no fear in matching my strength with his. I crept quietly toward him, and, when near enough, made a leap which landed me square upon his broad back. I found him flesh and blood indeed, and very ener- getic flesh and blood at that. We struggled desperately for a time, which seemed, indeed, an age. At some moments it would seem to be impossible for me to continue my ascendancy. The man acted like a cornered animal. He writhed and twisted, trying his best to turn over, so that he might embrace me with, what I felt would be a death grip, should it ever happen. His frantic efforts to free him- self or overpower me, seemed to continue for hours, but was probably for only a few seconds, when I felt a weakening in his straining muscles, a giving way in his rigid form, and with a last herculean effort I forced him to the floor, with my knees pressed close upon each side of his back, while my hands tightly compressed his throat from behind, holding his face pressed against the floor. I feared to move lest he should recover his feet, and overpower me. While I had him in this position I felt sure that I could hold him. What was I to do? I could not hold myself at this 90 ( 7< Vi r Busim ss Sketches tension ;ill night. 1 called once or twice, at the top of my voice: "Police! Police!" but the tones seemed to be those of an infant as they reverberated through the great store. If I could only leave him for an instant I would ring the District Telegraph call for the police. I tried, with all my strength, to force him over toward the wall, in hope to be able to reach it. The call was at the side of Mr. Preston's desk, and back of us. I could not make it. His strength, under equal conditions, would have matched mine, if not surpassed it, and it was only my great advantage of him, in position and hold, that enabled me to cope with him at all. "My God," I criedj " if I could only reach that police call." Wha1 was that? Surely I saw the door of the closet in which we kept our coats, moving outward. I watched it in fascina- tion. It opened further. Yes, it moves again. Now it was open wide enough to allow the egress of a per- son, and — "Let me call the police for you, Mr. Stanhope." It was a woman's voice. It was a woman's form. Out into the office she came, revealing to my aston- ished and incredulous gaze the interesting personality of Miss Louise Preston, my patron's youngest daugh- ter. Without another word she stepped to the District Telegraph call, adjusted it for the police, and quickly pulled tlie Lever. Just at that moment the noise of an opening door from the outer room was distinctly audible. "Papa, papa, hurry, hurry! Mr. Stanhope has caughl a burglar." She ran to the office door as she called and peered into the store. I had to give my en- tire attention to my captive now, as he was becoming very restive. Mr. Preston (for it was he) hurried into the office and came at once to m}'- assistance. It was well that he did, as 1 was rapidly losing my strength. Together we soon rendered the bold miscreant hors du combat, The Phantom Bookkeeper 91 and held him securely until the poliee arrived and took him in charge. "Well, my daughter, Mr. Stanhope has caught you at it. Eh?" "I am glad that he came," answered the young lady, "for I was nearly frightened to death." I looked from one to the other, dazed. Was this the fair "spirit" whom I had been pursuing, and who was responsible for the excellent condition of my books during my absence? I waited impatiently for further explanation. "What about the robber, my dear?" asked Mr. Preston, as he passed his arm around the beautiful girl's waist. She was trembling, now that the danger was over, and pale with fright. "Oh, papa, a little while after you left to get shaved I heard a noise at one of the windows. I ran into the closet to watch. 1 was not afraid; I was just a little bit timid. I saw the man creep into the window and go to the safe. Then I realized that it was a burglar, and became cold as death with fear. I could do nothing. I watched him through the crack of the door, in fascinated silence, as he worked, and made up my mind to give the alarm as soon as he was out of the store. It seemed so long. I began to fear that you would return, and I knew that he would kill you. Finally Mr. Stanhope came from 'I know not where' and sprang upon him. Oh, how I shuddered as they struggled and groaned. I feared — Oh, I feared that he would be killed. Then Mr. Stanhope — Well, papa, he needed some one to ring the police alarm, and 1 came out and did it. That is all, papa. ' ' 1 ' And it is quite enough. I was a fool to leave you, darling, for a moment, but we become careless as we are unmolested and forget our caution. The man must have seen me leave the office and took me for the bookkeeper. He evidently expected to finish his job while I was absent. Now, we must put ourselves right with Mr. Stanhope." "Please do, papa," said Louise; "he'll think that I am very bold." 92 Clever Business Sketches "Well, Stanhope, to account for this untimely — or, perhaps, I had better say timely, appearance here, I will Bay thai my self-willed daughter wanted some practical experience in bookkeeping. She had al- ready graduated from the theoretical school. The day your first absence occurred she asked to be permitted to practice upon your books at night, and, as I thought, with my help, she might, perhaps, struggle through it, I weakly allowed her to come. I told her that if she muddled you up, she could not do it again. As you made no complaints, I concluded the work was satisfactory." "It was all right. It was beautifully done," 1 an- swered. "I wish I could have such an assistant with me always." A bright blush burned in Miss Preston's pale cheek as I spoke, and she answered my look, which plainly said, "May I hope?" with one which as plainly said, "You may." "I must admit, however," I continued, "I have been somewhat muddled. I began to fear that I was haunted ; and 1 came down here tonight to capture, or dispel, the spirit." "You have succeeded admirably," said Mr. Preston. Yes, children, this is your mama's little romance, which I have promised to tell you so often. That hap- pened a year before we were married, and I went into the firm. The burglar? Oh, he received the usual long peni- tentiary sentence. No trouble to convict him, as he was caught in the act. Later I discovered the cause of the 'spirit' rap- pings in my desk. A brass-lined ruler was in one of my desk drawers, poised about the center upon a rub- ber eraser; a mouse had been using it for a runway. So you see, children, papa's ghost story was com- monplace after all. So will all mysterious things be- come plain, when you understand the cause. JOHN DAVIS, MANAGER, AND THE NEW PRESIDENT'S POLICY. BY F. B. LINTON. John Davis, the local manager of the Union Tele- graph Co., walked briskly into his office, nodded to his cashier, and lighted a cigar, and plunged into his morning's mail. "Oh! I wonder what our new superintendent has to say," he thought, as he tore open an envelope marked "Superintendent's Office." lie read: Dear Sir: Referring to your October reports, I note that your receipts show a large decrease when compared with the same month last year. I also note that your ex- penses show a very slight decrease. Please explain this, and take at once the necessary steps to reduce the expenses and increase the receipts. Yours truly, H. L. Brown, Supt. "Whew!" he exclaimed. "He is apparently not satisfied with my management. That last report did make a bad showing." The Union Telegraph Company w T as undergoing a reorganization. A new president had been chosen at the last meeting of the board of directors. He was ambitious, aggressive, and bent on making a record. He was selected for the presidency on his record for cutting down expenses and getting work out of men, made while he was general superintendent of a di- vision in the west. Soon after his elevation, he re- moved a number of men — some because they antago- nized his policy, some because they had fallen into a rut, and others on the general principle that it is a good thing to infuse new blood into the company. He held that the wholesale removals made the men that were retained more industrious. Fear was the prod he used to urge his subordinates to work. 93 9-1 Clever Busim ss Sketches Mr. Brown was appointed a month ago superin- tendent of the district in which John Davis' office was situated. The old superintendent, who had been in the service of the company for 30 years, was dis- charged. Mr. Brown had been one of the new presi- dent's lieutenants in the west. John Davis re-read his letter. Summoning his sten- ographer, he dictated this reply: Mr. II. L. Brown, Supt. : Dear Sir — Replying to your favor of the 6th inst, I beg to state that the decrease in receipts shown by my reports is due to a general depression in business in this city. I have secured the business of a number of new firms, and am holding the business of all our last year's customers, but the manufacturers and brokers are not doing as much business this year. I will, however, continue my efforts to increase the busi- ness. I do not think it practical to reduce expenses at this time. The present force could handle more business, but the force cannot be reduced without requiring the men to work unreasonably long hours or impairing the efficiency of the service. Very truly, J. II. Davis, Mgr. "When the letter was handed to him for signature, he hesitated. "That first part is all right," he said to himself, "but the last part will grate on the nerves of the new superintendent, if I have correctly sized up the man. But, no — 1 won't cut salaries and I won't reduce the force. Every man here from the messenger boys up to the chief operator, has stood by me in my efforts to improve the service and get business, and I will stand by them." He signed the letter. As he pondered, after mailing his letter to the super- intendent, the recenl changes in the company and the probable effects of the reorganization, his thoughts wandered back over his own experience since entering the service of the company. In this same office, 15 years ago, at the age of 12, he began his telegraph ca- The Neiv President's Policy :,: » reer as a messenger boy. He recalled with a smile his feeling of responsibility when he started out with his first message, and how elated he was when, on the night of that eventful day, the clerk inspected his de- livery sheets and found a signature for every message. Never since had he felt so great a responsibility or en- joyed so much a triumph; not when he was promoted to delivery clerk ; not when, after practicing for hours at night, he was put on as an operator ; not when he was promoted to chief operator and measured wires for crosses and grounds with an accuracy that de- lighted the linemen; no, not when three years ago he was made manager of the office. He knew and was known by every man in the city that did a regular telegraph business. He had carried messages to most of them at all hours of the day and night. Many of them had offered him positions in their offices or factories, but nothing had ever tempted him to leave the telegraph office. Telegraphing fas- cinated him. He loved the work. Two days later he received this reply to his letter : Dear Sir: Your letter received, and the excuses you offer for the bad showing of your office noted. Results are what we want, however, and not excuses. I am obliged, there- fore, to call for your resignation, taking effect the last day of this month. On the first day of next month I will send a man to relieve you. You will turn over to him all the property and money due the company, taking his receipt for the same. Yours truly, H. L. Brown, Supt. The color faded from Davis' face as he read the let- ter. Then his countenance grew stern and his eyes flashed. "He wants results, does he?" he muttered. "Well, I'll show him a few results." In a moment he had control of his rising anger, and, turning to his cashier, said: "Tom, make me up a statement of the receipts and expenditures of the office for the last six years, showing a comparison of the last three years with the three years previous." 96 CU ver Business Sketches "All right, Mr. Davis," replied the cashier. "I'll have it for you in half an hour." Later in the day, with the statement in his pocket, Davis left for Cincinnati to have an interview with the superintendent. "Now, Mr. Brown," .said Davis to the superintend- ent, after showing him the statement of the receipts and expenses of the office for six years, "that is my record. As you see, the receipts of the office have been doubled in the last three years." "But the receipts this year are less than last year. How do you explain that?" "Last year was an exceptionally good year. The brokers and manufacturers did an extensive telegraph business, and I secured a number of new customers. This year they are not doing so much business." "Well, why have you not decreased your expenses proportionately ? ' ' "I am increasing the efficiency of the service. You will note that the receipts of the office have doubled since I became manager. That's the result of good service." "Yes, that's good as far as it goes; but our policy is to reduce expenses. Now, Mr. Davis, I have noth- ing against you personally, but my instructions are to discharge every man who does not co-operate with us in cutting expenses. Your record is good. If you will cut some salaries in your office and get your ex- penses lower I will recall my request for your resig- nation. Now, there is your cashier. He is getting more " "But he is a good man, and may leave us." "You can get plenty of men to take his place; we have stacks of applications." 'lie has helped build up the business, and it's hard to find a man that will put the enthusiasm that he has into the work. Besides, he stood by me " "Well, your chief operator. His salary is higher 'If' 1 is a better chief than the average. His expe- rience makes him a valuable man." The Netr President \s- Volley 97 "Then look at your messenger boys. They get too much." ""Why, Mr. Brown, I have the best messenger force in the country. You ought to see thorn hustle for mes- sages. They work overtime, and there isn't anything they won't do for me." "Well, Mr. Davis, where will you reduce expenses?" "You will pardon me, Mr. Brown, when I state that I know the conditions m my office and city better than you do. I have gained, and am holding, some of our biggest customers by giving them the best service they have ever had. I know that to reduce expenses, and thereby impair the service, would mean a big loss of busimess to the company." "It seems unnecessary to discuss this matter fur- ther. I understand, then, that you will not reduce ex- penses." "I will not. Good day, Mr. Brown." "When Davis arrived at his office next morning, his first act was to write a formal resignation and for- ward it to the superintendent. He w-ent through his mail, dictated replies and cleared up his desk. In the evening he called all his employes into his office and, after thanking them for their loyal support and efficient service, told them that at the request of the superintendent he had resigned. There were exclamations of surprise and indigna- tion. One of the operators proposed that they all strike. There were murmurs of assent. "No, no," said Davis. "That would do you harm and would not do me any good. Stay with the com- pany — for the present at least. I may want you to help me later, but don't give up your present posi- tions until you get better ones." Davis, always energetic, was unusually active dur- ing the next few days. He saw all the firms in the city that did a big telegraph business. He called their attention to the fact, which most of them knew, that he had greatly improved the telegraph service from that city. He had secured direct wires to New York and other important cities. The rival telegraph com- OS ( 'lever Business Sketches pany had been forced to improve their facilities in order to hold part of the business. He proposed to further improve the service. Did they want faster service and quicker answers to their messages? Of course they did. Then he had a confidential proposi- tion to make. Would they agree to his conditions? Alter hearing them, many of them did. Four days before the date on which his resignation was to take effect, Davis called upon Cameron, the local manager of the Commercial Telegraph Co. Al- though competitors for business, and each keenly alive to the interests of his company, they were personal friends. Cameron, who did not know that Davis had resigned, was dumfounded at the proposition he made. "I shall have to Like that up with my superintend- ent at Cincinnati before I can give you an answer, Davis." he said, after expressing the surprise he felt. "But this matter must be deeided at once," replied Davis. "Give me, a letter to the superintendent and I will go and see him." The superintendent, however, when Davis saw him, said he would have to hear from the general superin- tendent in Chicago. Davis immediately set out to see him. "1 like your proposition, Mr. Davis," said the gen- i pal superintendent, "but as it involves considerable expenditure and a change in wires outside' of my di- vision, I shall have to get authority from Mr. Adams, general manager of the company, in New York." "lie is the man I want to see, then," said Davis. '"Will you write him now recommending my proposi- tion? 1 will take the letter directly to him and ex- plain the details." The general superintendent gave him the letter. Twenty-four hours later Davis arrived in New York and ;il once called on Mr. Adams, the general man- p of the Commercial Telegraph Co. Briefly Davis outlined liis proposition. 'Yon say thai the lending firms in your city will give their telegraph business to whichever company The New President's Policy W you want them to?" asked the president, his manner expressing incredulity. "I say that they will allow me to place their busi- ness with the company that will give them the quick est service. Here are contracts with a number of firms to that effect. Many other firms with whom I did not make a written contrad verbally agreed to do so. Now, the substance <>f my proposition is this — your company is to open two branch offices in the busi- ness district, put in the additional wires, and make the other improvements that I have indicated. These improvements will give our city the best service it has ever had. I will then turn over the business that I control. Your receipts in that city will be doubled. I am to be appointed manager of the branch offices, with a commission on the increased receipts." "But what assurance have I that you can give us this business?" asked the general manager. "Your plan involves the expenditure of a considerable sum. ' ' "My salary depends upon the amount of business I give you. If you are afraid, however, to make the necessary outlay, the other company will consid " "Suppose I give you a larger commission — say twice the amount you proposed— and do not make the improvement. If you control the business, you can give it to us any way, and both you and our company will make more " "That is not to be thought of for an instant. I promised better service, and it is on that condition alone that your company can get the business." "What is your estimate of the cost of the improve- ment?" "In round numbers $20,000, but as I propose to increase your receipts $15,000 a month, it makes a good investment. You w r ill find the estimated cost fully itemized in these papers." "Mr. Davis." said the general manager, rising, "I will go over your papers at once and give your propo- sition very careful consideration. I will wire my decision to the superintendent, who will advise you. 100 Clever Business Sketches My answer will be awaiting you when you reach home. ( ! 1 day, sir." Davis left for home on the first train. He arrived on the morning of the day his resignation took effect. After a bath and breakfast, he hastened to the office — until this day he had always thought of it as his office. lie found a telegram from the superintendent of the Commercial Company awaiting him. It read: 'Your proposition accepted. Install branch offices and superintend other improvements you outlined." Later in the day he turned the management of the office over to Brooks, his successor. "While Davis well knew that Brooks was in no way responsible for his discharge, he could not help feeling that he was a usurper. Their intercourse was, therefore, formal and as brief as consistent with the business at hand. Thus ended his work for the Union Telegraph Company. For the next week he was a busy man. He opened two branch offices, directed the work of four gangs of linemen who were stringing wires, and made all nec- essary arrangements at the main office for handling the increased business. In the meanwhile the superintendent was arranging direct wires to all the principal cities. When every- thing was in readiness, Davis, notified his customers, and in one day more than half of the business of the Union Telegraph Company was transferred to the Commercial Company. The Union Telegraph Company endeavored to re- gain the business. Brooks, the new manager, who well knew that the president, when he learned of the decrease in receipts, would want an explanation, tele- graphed for Superintendent Brown to come to his as- sistance. 'I have reduced expenses, Mr. Brown, as you di- rected." said Brooks, after he had acquainted him with the situation. "But since this loss in receipts they are larger, proportionately, than they were. The office will make an awful showing this month. We will have to fix up some kind of an explanation for the president." The New President's Policy 101 "The president wants results. Explanations won't go with him. We have got to get this business back, Brooks," replied Superintendent Brown. Together they canvassed the customers who had turned their business to Davis with the rival company. Everywhere they received the same answer: "You will have to see Davis. lie has charge of our telegraph business now, you know. lie gives us quick service, too — the best we ever had. Bright young man, that fellow Davis. How did he happen to leave your company?" A few of the smaller customers, however, promised to give them part of their business. But after thor- oughly canvassing the city, they regained only a very small part of the lost trade. Superintendent Brown returned to his office and thought over the situation. "I will have to offer ex- cuses to the president after all," he thought. "I wonder if he will tell me, as I told Davis, that he wants results, not excuses. Anyway, I carried out his policy in reducing expenses. I believe Davis was right, though, when he maintains that reducing ex- penses isn't always the best policy. Remarkable man. that fellow Davis! I wonder if I can get him back. I will have to increase his salary, I suppose. Humili- ating, too, but less so than to be obliged to explain the situation to the president." Then he sent the following telegram to Davis: "Will you accept your old position with us at $600 increase and carry out your own policy? Wire an- swer. ' ' Two hours later he received this reply: "Cannot accept your offer. I have just been pro- moted to superintendent of this division of the Com- mercial Telegraph Company. John Davis." THE STRANGE CASE OF CLEMENT ZENT How Forbes Weston, Business Counselor, Saved a Business, Evolved a Unique but Practical Sell in CHAPTER II. ALEXANDER ZENT's STORY. "When my father died five years ago," he con- tinued, resinning his chair, "he left a fortune of $110,000 in cash, a mortgage note which he had held for that amount having been paid off just before his death. "The estate was divided equally among my sister, Laura; my brother, Clement, and myself. Previous to that time I was engaged in selling a patent shear invented by myself, and manufactured on contract by an eastern firm. At the time of my father's death my business was growing rapidly. Our legacies were uninvested, and, knowing the possibilities of the shear business, 1 formed a corporation, calling it the Empire Shear Company. "My sister invested $15,000 in the stock of the new company, my brother, $500, and I turned into it the old business with its patents, good will, etc., entire, and, besides, invested in it the $20,000 that was left me by my father. I thus have always held a control- ling interest, and am the president, treasurer and gen- eral manager of the concern. "My brother has never been actively associated with me, his business being that of buying and selling commercial paper. You probably know, Mr. "Weston, that he is quite a rich man today." Weston nodded as he lighted his cigar, which had gone out. "My brother is very close, and why he invested in the new company at all is a mystery to me," continued Zent. "He opposed my sister's investment, saying that the venture was a risky one and that we all would most probably lose our money. My brother's nature is a very vindictive and cynical one. He knows but one law, and that is the law of his own judgment. "My plans for the business included the purchase of ground and the erection of a building, where the shears were to be made complete. Without my sister's money and my own, this could not be done. In fact 106 Clever Business Sketches we thought out the plans together, and, when the time came, she put in her money against my brother's ad- vice and wishes, offending him deeply. "He has always called me my own worst enemy be- cause of what he terms my extravagance. My brother never tipped a servant in his life, and at the buffet below his offices he has an arrangement with the at- tendant whereby he buys regularly one drink in the morning, paying fifteen cents therefor, and another at eight for which he pays ten cents, thus getting the t wo-for-a-quarter rate. I have no desire to speak ill of him. but this will show his two strong characteristics, parsimoniousness, and a total disregard for customs, and of the ridicule and disdain of others. "lie lives most frugally and spends nothing for luxuries as we know them. His luxuries consist of the humoring of his splenetic moods, and he will, after a quarrel with a neighbor, spend many dollars for spile fences and sarcastic newspaper articles, at ad- vertising rates in his town weekly to satisfy his grudges. One of his specialties is splenetic quarrels wilh public officials over any public improvement that concerns his taxes. These expenditures arc his only extravagances. He has no friend in the world, and lives alone within himself at White Forest, at which suburb he has a handsome home obtained by a fore- closure. "The end of the first year after my father's death saw our new Factory completed, and we were, by that time, running at our full capacity. We have always sold our goods directly to the dealer through regular salesmen. During our second year, a strong competi- tor put out a shear much like ours at what would have been to us a ruinous price. However, he had at large cost installed new machinery of a labor-saving nature that enabled him to make the shear at a good profit, when sold at the reduced price. Our orders fell off at once, and ruin stared us in the face. "Owing to the new condition of the market and the altered state of the art of shear-making, our plant, in which machinery and equipment represented the The Strange Case of Clement Zent 107 larger investment, would not have, if sold, brought thirty-three and one-third cents on the dollar. "Because of our large fixed expenses, our assets de- creased rapidly and I was using to the utmost the credit extended by our bankers. "At this time my brother was sojourning in Ari- zona, his health being very poor. He had never taken any interest in informing himself as to the condition of the Empire Shear Company's business affairs, and I had never acquainted him with the vicissitudes of the company. In fact I dreaded the biting and malev- olent sarcasm with which he would receive an account of my struggles and imminent failure. "I must not fail. My sister's fortune was at stake. For my own losses I cared nothing compared to hers, and to the sinister satisfaction that I knew my brother would take in our undoing. 1 knew that the vindi- cation of his judgment by our failure and our humili- ation would be to him the sweetest thing in life. I must not fail. As a brother I revolted at the thought of furnishing him such an unholy and unnatural revel. "Night and day two faces were continually before me, alternating through my conscious and subconscious self — the sweet face of my sister with her soft, brown hair and dark eyes, troubling because of my trouble, and grieved by thoughts of Clement's life and his atti- tude toward her and me with never a thought of her own material loss and what it would mean to her ; the other face — Heaven forbid that I, his brother, should describe before men the vision that came to me in those dark hours. "I resolved that these pictures must never be painted. I determined to save my brother from him- self, through himself. In doing so I would save my sister the heartache that impended and the loss that threatened. "I determined to rebuild our machinery along the new labor-saving lines and to purchase additional ma- chines where needed. The expense would be great. 1 had no available resources to meet it." 108 Clever Business Sketches Zent stopped speaking for a moment, and looked with tired and uncertain eyes at Weston, who silent and impassive, sat settled back in his chair, seemingly- absorbed in thought. "I issued," he continued, flushing painfully, "a false and most favorable statement of the conditions of the business of the Empire Shear Company and borrowed upon this without security, at my brother's offices, the money that I needed to complete my plans. You would not care to shake my hand now, Mr. Wes- ton?" he asked slowly, looking up. Weston frowned impatiently and waved the remark aside, with a quick movement. "Go ahead!" he said sharply. CHAPTER III. LAURA ZENT INTERVENES. "In my brother's absence," resumed Zent, "his manager was required to refer to him by mail for his approval all new applications for loans; but, because of my relationship and my representations as to the urgent need of the business, he made the loan without referring it to my brother. Because of this, upon my brother's return from Arizona, the manager was promptly discharged, and this without my brother's knowing that the statement was a false one." A shadow of remorse and mortification crossed Zent's \v;m face. He continued: "Six months after the negotiations of our paper with my brother's manager witnessed the rehabilita- tion of our manufacturing processes, and nine months afterward found us without sufficient working capital to carry the thousands of dealers to whom we began selling the new out put at the new prices, the working capital shortage occurring because of the long time taken by most retail dealers in paying their bills. 1 ' The first note given my brother matured at the end of a year. Things had not worked out as quickly as I had anticipated; there were leaks, perhaps, in our factory management; our accounting system was, perhaps, at fault; besides, our old competitor had be- The Strange Case of Clement Zcnt 109 gun a national campaign of advertising in the maga- zines, and again our sales began to fall off. "The goods we had already put upon the shelves of the dealers of the country did not move rapidly, and we received few duplicate orders. These condi- tions still maintained when my brother's first note fell due. It was drawn for $5,000. "The second note would be due at the end of the following year. I could not pay the first, and was then not concerned about the second. "Again I was face to face with the certainty of my brother's knowing all. I would not allow myself to think of using the money remaining to my sister from her legacy. The risk was now far too great. I could only throw myself upon my brother's mercy, ask an extension of time and try to work out. "In the little library of my sister's home and mine, on the night that I had resolved to tell him all, I opened a letter sent me by messenger from the presi- dent of the bank with whom we dealt. It was a final refusal to extend our credit to the amount of $5,000 additional. The last sentence read : 'As you say you must positively have this money tomorrow, and desire that my final answer be given you today, I am sending this to your home by special messenger.' "My appeal to my banker was at best a forlorn hope, and I let the letter fall idly to the floor. I sank into a large leather chair where I slept fitfully. When I awoke Laura was beside me, stroking my hair back from my forehead. 'You are ill, Aleck,' she said ten- derly, and her little hand seemed wonderfully cool upon my brow. 'I am afraid you worry far too much. Please don't sleep here any more tonight; you'll take cold. Good night, you old dear ! She kissed me and left the room ! while I buried my face in my hands and wept, an erring and unstrung man. "The next morning I entered my brother's office. He looked up with a cynical smile from the financial reports upon his desk. " 'Why is it?' he said, still smiling cynically, 'that people will call upon a man when they know he is apt to be most busy?' 110 Clever Business Sketches i '/ stood over him with my ji^L clinched" < < < 'I heaven 't the least idea,' I replied wearily. 'I came to tell you that 1 cannol pay your note today.' I shall sec that it is paid then,' he replied with icy quickness. 'You will bring suit?' 1 asked. 1 shall attach your hank balance,' he said. 'There is not enough,' I replied. 'A cold, suspicious look came into my brother's eyes. 'There is no1 enough, and you have known for a year that you have this note to meet? Have you lost or gained during the past year?' "'Neither,' 1 replied; 'we have just held our ground.' "In his deliberate way my brother went to another room and after a few minutes returned. He brought < < < ' y qi < < i Hi i I i i i The Strcmge Case of Clement Zent in with him the financial statement that I had made to his former manager. He resumed his scat, studying the paper carefully. After a few moments he said: 'This statement shows an abundance of reasonably quick assets. If you have held your ground, and have made any effort at all to provide for the payment of my note, you must have the money on hand.' " 'The money is not on hand,' I replied. " 'Is it not consistent with your ideas of business conduct to prepare for the meeting of your paper?' he asked, with a superior, sardonic smile. "I ignored his sarcasm, and answered slowly, I tried to meet it.' " 'Then your statement is ' " 'False,' T replied in a strained voice — but my brother showed no emotion. He sat there quietly fixing my eyes with his cold, steady gaze and contai- ned unchanged his sneering smile that was made of closed, thin lips, a deepening of the cynical lines about the eyes and a drawing back of that deep Vol- tairian one which runs from the nose to beyond the corner of the mouth; there seemed, too, to be a trace of enjoyment — No, No ! the thought is fiendish ; but, Weston, before heaven, it was there. " 'I suppose you know where you belong?' he asked incisively. I did not answer, but stared at him ap- palled. " 'You shall not be free to obtain money under false pretenses long. Perjury does not run in our family, and evil weeds are best plucked at the sprouting.' "I cringed beneath his biting, accusing sarcasm. Then, torn to the quick, I jumped up and stood over him with clenched fists. " 'By , ' I said, 'beyond the law, I am a better man than you within it. If I perjured myself, it was because my heart was warm — because I loved and sought to prevent harm to others, not to cause it ; not because my motives were base am I beyond the law. ' "My brother made a gesture of impatience. '"Will you kindly cut that out,' he said impudently. " 'When I am through with you,' I retorted, threat- 112 Clever Business Sketches ening him. 'You have always been within the law. You were within it when upon a trivial grievance you erected on your own property that high fence which shuts the light of day from the home of the crip- pled little lady thai lives next to you. Your grounds arc beautiful, but she never sees them. You have spoiled her view, depreciated her property, and taken away from her life one of the few joys her vision is allowed, putting into its place a monument to the lit- tleness of a human soul. " 'You have done all this legally — you are within the law. And now that you have a legal right you will try to shut the light of the free day from your own brother, your mother's and your father's son — and you will exult in breaking our sister's heart, for the day that you seek to degrade me I shall take my life.' " 'You may as well begin now,' he said acidly, 'be- cause the first thing I shall do will be in the interest of justice. I think you know 7 that I am not a weak man. The honor of our family shall not lie in shut- ting in our skeletons, but in exposing them. How- ever, I have an aversion to a Zent wearing stripes.' "1 was overpowered by his infernal egotism ajid ma- lignity. Then my spirit rebelled and I rose again, lowering over him. I had no thought to plead with him. Too long had I known his iron will and obdurate heart. It would have done no good. ' 'Sit down. Sit down!' he said impatiently. " 'Why?' I asked. 'Because I wish you to tell me calmly how soon you will be ready for this journey that you have pro- posed taking, and which I think will be the better way. ' 'I am ready now,' I said, looking out over the roofs of high buildings to where Lake Michigan glis- tened in the morning sun. ' Without a word my brother pulled open a drawer of his desk, which was within my reach, and left the room. It contained a loaded revolver. 'I reached for a sheet of paper and penned a little farewell letter to my sister. For four years I had car- The SI range Case of Clement Zent 113 ried a very large life insurance of which she was the beneficiary. I gave her instructions in regard to this; then I grasped the revolver firmly and raised it to my temple. "A sound of rustling paper under the door arrested my finger, and I heard Laura's voice calling my name. Something seemed to snap within me, and I rushed to the door to strain her to my heart. "When I opened it she was gone. 'Laura,' I called, but only the threadbare clerks at their desks heard me. "I picked up the envelope that she had thrust be- neath the door. It bore my name. Tearing it open I found the letter of the bank president, which I had received the night before, and upon it was written in Laura's hand: 'W T hy didn't you come to me, Aleck? Bankers are so cold.' With the letter was a cashier's check for $5,000. "W 7 ith the check came reason. It would pay the note, and my brother would be forestalled in his prose- cution for another year. If things went against me during that time and I was unable to pay the second note, matters between my brother and myself would be in the same condition as today, before the coming of Laura's check. W 7 hile the $5,000 that I held in my hand might become lost to her, still, if I died a year from today, she would have the ample insurance funds that I had provided for her. ' ' ' Ha ! As I expected ; yellow to the core. ' It was my brother's voice; he had re-entered the room. 'I thought you were ready for your journey?' " 'I was,' I replied coldly, laying Laura's check upon his desk, ' but it has been postponed for a year. ' "His face showed no chagrin nor surprise as he touched a bell and mechanically told a clerk to bring him my first note, marked canceled, and which he handed to me in a businesslike way. " 'You have made difficult the proving of perjury for the present,' he said. 'See to it that your are as lucky next year. You will find me within the law then, as now, and remember, I have my own ideas about skeletons. ' 114 Clever Business Sketches "He turned to his papers and I left him without a word." Zent paused and looked at his watch. ' ' I have told you most of my story, and must hurry home, ' ' he said. "I take it that your interview with your brother took place this morning," observed Weston. "It did," replied Zent, "and I have spent the suc- ceeding hours racking my brain for plans that will at once put my business upon a paying basis. Nothing new that is plausible comes to me. I am in a rut, and the minutes are ticking against me with deathlike certainty. At times today, I have thought 1 must go mad ; my brain and body crave action, but it must be in the right direction. I must follow plans that will force results — that are logical to me." "Go home," said Weston, rising, and holding out his hand. "Tomorrow, at ten o'clock I will meet you at your factory. There I shall want you to give me everything in detailed information about the business that you can. I shall then work out a plan that will meet with your approval. There is undoubtedly a sure way out. Your mind needs a rest. Stop thinking of business for a day or two and you will stop worry- ing. If your subconsciousness refuses to part with your troubles, play bridge, read Bernard Shaw's plays, mix up nocturnally at your club if you can't sleep, but do not lie in bed awake. That has meant insanity for some men in your position. But take my word for it, your problem will not be as difficult to solve as you now think. You are in a rut, as you say." Weston settled back in his chair when Zent had gone, and I drew up to the fire. "Our friend's business atoms," he observed, are widely scattered. They must be put in a row, so that they can fasten themselves into a rod that can be worked with." "Otherwise, the atoms of his own cosmos are apt to be disintegrated," I suggested gravely. Weston smiled. "It is an unusual case," he said, "and Clement Zent is an unusual element." "A misanthrope?" I ventured. The Strange Case of Clement Zent 115 "An egrc^iously egotistic and fanatical one, 1 would say," said Weston. "But do you not think him a most unnatural brother?" I asked. "I believe he is a fanatic," replied Weston, but his pondering look told me that he was not satisfied with that conclusion. "Are you interested in the case?" he asked. "Intensely," I replied. "Then meet me here at nine thirty tomorrow morn- ing," he said. CHAPTER IV. WESTON VISITS THE PLANT. The Empire Shear Company's plant was located in the midst of one of those manufacturing colonies that spring up on the outskirts of large cities where land is inexpensive, within easy reach of the poorer classes who are employed in factories, and where rail- roads afford shipping facilities. As Weston's big automobile swung us into a narrow street, leading to our destination, the air above our heads was thick with smoke, pierced by the white and ultimately voluminous vapors of innumerable ex- hausts, which, loading the smoke particles with moist- ure, created a heavy atmosphere. Great trucks clattered over the brick pavement and switch-engines moved here and there in the neighbor- ing yards, while the sonant hum of industry from the factory buildings formed the chords in a noisy sym- phony of creative effort. The contrast between this and the quiet community life of Princeton inspired me. I longed to take my place in this great system of energy. The avenues were not easy ones, but set with problems and per- plexities involving even the continuance of human life itself, for I was still thinking of Zent's story and the place he at present held in the busy scenes that glided past our car. "The Empire Shear Company" appeared for a mo- 116 Clever Business Sketches unlit in the shape of a large sign on a conventional brick factory building, and the next we were ascend- ing the steps to the office. Weston handed his card to a boy at a telephone switch-board, who pointed the way to Alexander Zent's private office. Order and system seemed to prevail everywhere, so far as equipment and the manners and appearance of the neatly-dressed stenographers and evidently intel- ligent bookkeepers and clerks were concerned. AYe.ston surveyed all with his quick eye and gave Zent a most cordial greeting as we passed into the latter's room, which testified to the fact that the occu- pant had not allowed the implements of business to crowd out the evidences of culture. It was also evi- dent upon what Clement Zent had based his charges of extravagance in Alexander. It was clear to me that the latter had an element of romance in his tem- perament, perhaps too much for his own good. I had already grown to like him. There was a rich carpet on the floor ; a library table of mahogany bore a bronze book rack of massive and unique design containing a number of miscellaneous classical works; a bust of Shakespeare was on a bracket over Zent's desk; a fine bronze statuette of an artisan at work rested upon a black onyx base in a corner; some growing flowers were in a hanging basket of grotesque shape suspended near a window, and there were other articles of furniture unusual in the office of a manufacturer. "I would prefer to take seats at the table," said Weston quickly. "Will you provide me with some blank sheets of paper?" He drew a fountain pen from his pocket, and adjusted the cap while Zent "buzzed" for writing material. We were then seated. ""What are your accounts receivable today?" Wes- ton asked Zent. "I will have them extended and footed up from the customers' ledger," replied the latter. "Do you not have a record of them from day to day?" asked Weston. The Strange Case of Clement Zent 117 "A record is made only once a month, or whenever an emergency demands, as, for instance, today," said Zent. Weston made a note of the reply. "I will put' the whole force on the matter at once," continued Zent. "They are engaged upon important routine work, but it will have to wait." Weston repressed a smile. "Instant information should always be obtainable through daily records in your bookkeeping department, Mr. Zent, and the re- cording of this information should be routine work. What are your accounts payable?" "That will have to be drawn off especially, also," replied Zent, sending an order to the bookkeeping de- partment. "And your bills payable and receivable?" "Can be arrived at more quickly than the others." "Is your record of assets, such as tools, machinery, office equipment, etc., up to date, or does it apply only to the condition of business at the first of the month?" "Only to the first." "Mr. Zent, you should install at once a combination cash book and journal that will give you a daily finan- cial statement with complete information on all ac- counts in connection with a perpetual inventory of your raw and finished material. Are you using a check register in connection with your cashbook at the present time?" "Yes, a most up-to-date one." "You may discard it wdien you put in the new sys- tem. It will then be superfluous, as your checks will be entered daily in the new combination cash book and journal, thus forming a check register as well as a cash book entry. This applies equally to deposits. You will find that the new system will reduce the work of your office force. Now, in your order system, do you post your customers' ledger charges from your salesbook ? ' ' "Yes." "Do you make out your invoice, factory order, and salesbook entry all at the same time?" "Yes, by means of carbon paper." 118 Clever Business Sketches "Posting and a salesbook are unnecessary. We will put in a system consisting of three simultaneous copies, comprising an invoice, factory order and ledger sheet, the latter being filed as a customers' account in a loose-leaf binder. I have installed like systems else- where, and they are all satisfactory. We must cut down work and incidentally the salary account in your office." At this point Jenkins, the head bookkeeper, en- tered with the accounts receivable record to date. "In taking off this record, Mr. Zent," he said, "I noticed that the order of the Associated Eastern Dealers has not been shipped as yet." "Tell Benson I want to see him at once," returned Zent with some annoyance. "Benson," said Zent, as the shipping clerk entered, "why has that order of the Associated Eastern Deal- ers not gone forward?" "It's not. ready yet," the latter replied. Zent dismissed Benson and picked up a speaking tube. "Tell Kendall I want to see him," he said sharply, letting the "whistle" snap back with a click. Kendall, a shrewd, energetic man of about forty, whom I correctly took for the factory superintendent, entered the room familiarly. 'Why are not those goods for the Associated East- ern Dealers ready for shipment? You told me two days ago that they were then ready. What has de- layed them?" asked Zent. "They are ready now," said Kendall. 1 noticed that Weston watched the man narrowly. Then before Zent could query further as to the delay, Kendall said urgently: "Mr. Zent, I was just coming in to ask you to step out'to the forge room with me. I want you to see one of the automatic hammers at once. I don't like the way it wears at one of the bearings, and the guarantee time will be up tomorrow. I just happened to notice the expiration date in the contraet. " Z'-iit became immediately interested and hurried to the forge room. He returned shortly without Ken- The Strange Case of Clement Zent H° dall and laughingly said that everything was all righl with the hammer, that Kendall was over-cautions and conscientious in watching the firm's interests, but that he knew his business perfectly. "But you didn't find out why the goods for the Associated Eastern Dealers have been delayed, did you?" asked Weston. "No! By George!" Zent replied, reaching for the speaking tube hastily again to summon Kendall. "Wait a moment, Mr. Zent," said Weston. "Would you mind showing me the expiration date in the guar- antee clause of that contract?" Zent obtained the contract. "Why," he said, as- tonished, "the guarantee on that machine expired six months ago." "I expected as much," said Weston. "Mr. Zent, I am afraid a cunning man has passed himself off as a conscientious one. The machine bearing was merely a ruse to throw you off the scent of the delayed order. ' ' ' ' I wonder if Kendall needs watching ? ' ' asked Zent absently. "Most likely he needs firing," said Weston grimly. He reached over and took a book from the bronze rack on the table, turning the pages rapidly, while Zent watched him. Weston looked at Zent, and then read aloud : " . . . these small wares and petty points of cunning are infinite, and it were a good deed to make a list of them ; for that nothing doth more hurt in a state than that cunning men pass for wise." "Substitute the word 'business' for the word 'state' and you have a direct application of Bacon to your man Kendall. From my knowledge of types, I dare say that petty points of cunning are infinite with Ken- dall, only you have been too much engrossed in other matters to take note of them." 120 Clever Business Sketches CHAPTER V. WESTON UNFOLDS HIS PLANS. At this point Zent was called into the outer office. Kendall came in and laid upon the table a small hand machine. "How's this for a scissors grinder?" he said, taking a pair of dull shears from his pocket and adjusting them instantly in the machine. He then turned a small crank at the side There was a grinding sound, and the scissors were handed to us perfectly sharp for our inspection. Weston examined the machine carefully, Kendall explaining its workings the while. Zent re-entered the room, and Kendall said: "I have made the new ad- justment and it works perfectly. I will leave the ma- chine here on the table for you to try when you get around to it." Zent now placed before Weston the figures concern- ing the state of the business, which the latter had re- quested, including an approximate inventory of the stock on hand in raw and finished material. Weston became deeply absorbed in them. Finally he said : ' ' Mr. Zent, you have not sufficient resources to carry on your business with retail deal- ers. If they would discount their bills in ten days you might do business with them, but they take from thirty to one hundred and twenty days, as you know to your sorrow. You have considerable money tied up in this way now, and this we must endeavor to get in at once. Please instruct the proper employe to offer a discount of ten per cent for immediate payment on all slow ac- counts. " "But I cannot afford that," protested Zent. "You can afford twenty-five per cent, Mr. Zent, if it will assist you in getting your business on a paying, sound and healthy basis. You may have to offer even that to some of them if you adopt my plans." ' ' But before I can give an order of the kind you sug- gest I must first approve your plans. If we are not to market through the dealer where will we get our orders?" The Strange Case of Clement Zent 121 "Through the jobber," replied Weston. Zent held up both hands in holy horror. "Not for mine," he said vehemently. "I've been through the mill. Go to the jobber for an order and he will say: 'First create a demand, and we will stock your goods.' When the demand is created, he buys fearfully, only as stock is needed, and nine times out of ten he will try to sell the dealer some other brand on which he (the jobber) makes more money ; he docs not, as a rule, effect a single sale for you through his own ef- fort, and is only a clearing house to which you have the privilege of paying ten, twenty, or thirty per cent, with the only advantage of getting your money in ten days. We have no resources to create a demand among dealers, which can only be done by advertising direct to the consumer, and cleverly handling the lat- ter 's inquiries in such a way as to make them bring orders from the dealer. That is what our competitor is doing and he has several hundred thousand dollars for the purpose. Of course, through the demand cre- ated by the advertising, he is enabled to cut the job- ber 's profit to ten per cent, and the dealer 's to twenty- five." "All of which," said Weston quietly, "is in favor of my plan of selling to the jobber only." "But who will create the demand?" asked Zent. "The jobber himself," replied Weston. Zent looked at Weston with great surprise on his features as if the suggestion was out of the question, and unworthy of a man of Weston's reputation. "It won't do," he said with dull hopelessness, as if the last straw had floated beyond his reach. "What possible incentive is there for the jobber to handle our goods?" "This," said Weston, picking up the little machine that Kendall had left on the table, "and I propose giving one of these absolutely gratis to every hard- ware, drug, dry goods, notion, and general dealer that buys your goods of the jobber. These machines, with accompanying colored poster cut-outs for the dealers' 122 Clever Business Sketches show windows will constitute your national advertis- ing campaign." "But I tell you." said Zent impatiently, "that we have no money with which to make such a tremendous appropriation; to do what you propose will cost a fortune." "Ah," replied Weston, "but for every machine that is given to a dealer, you will receive an order for shears, upon which you will make your regular margin of profit, and of which the cost of this machine and the advertising window cut-out will be but a small per- centage. I take it that the machines can be manufac- tured in large quantities for about two dollars each." "About that," confirmed Zent. "And furthermore," continued Weston, "on all these orders you will receive payment within ten days. The bills will be discounted because all orders will come through the jobber." Zent was now thoroughly interested. Weston was evidently opening up a new point of view, in which there might be possibilities. The straw had eddied back to the drowning man. "The value of the advertising plan that I have sug- gested," pursued Weston, "lies in the fact that not a dollar will be spent in gambling for orders, as is done in a general publicity campaign, with such media as bill boards, street cars, newspapers and magazines. Your advertising, which will consist of these little grinding machines, and the cut-outs, will be done only after the order is received. It will be for you a sure- thing game. .Mr. Zent, in selling through the jobber you can allow him a twenty per cent margin, can you not?" "Yes," replied Zent, "provided I have no large advertising appropriation to take care of. Twenty per cent is double the margin allowed the jobber by our large advertising competitor." "And at present," asked Weston, "you are allow- ing your dealers to make a margin of fifty per cent, whereas the margin allowed them by your advertising competitor is twenty-five per cent ; is that not true 1 ' ' The Strange Case of Clement Zent 123 "That's right," replied Zent. "Under the plan I propose," said Weston, "you will allow twenty per cent to the jobber, and twenty-five per cent to the dealer, your competitor's allowance being ten per cent to the jobber and twenty-five per cent to the dealer. Now, as you have been allowing the dealer fifty per cent, you will effect a saving of five per cent on all goods sold. Thus, I believe that with the new arrangement of jobbers' and dealers' profits, the saving that you will effect on this item alone will pay all the advertising expenditure. At these figures you will be allowing the jobber ten per cent more than your competitor, which will of itself be an incentive for him to push your goods. ' ' "Yes," said Zent, "but not if he has to create the demand." "No, not if he has to create the demand by old methods, but I intend to put into his hands new meth- ods, attractive methods, that will stamp him as enter- prising, enthuse his city, and traveling salesmen, re- flect credit and prestige upon his house, and be of help in the sale of his other lines." "And I infer that you intend to do all this with this little machine as a basis," remarked Zent skep- tically. "Exactly," replied Weston confidently. "What is your best selling shear, Mr. Zent?" "The 'Tite-Cut,' " replied Zent. "Here is a pair of them. They have a small at- tachment here at the screw to take up the wear, which prevents the blades from becoming loose; we make them in a line of sizes." ' ' Capital ! ' ' exclaimed Weston. ' ' We will put them out in twenty, fifty, and one hundred dollar assort- ments, giving a machine free with each assortment. The small dealers will order the small assortments; the large dealers, the large ones." "What in the world," asked Zent, "will a dealer want of a machine? He seldom uses scissors himself, and, if he does, they need grinding seldom. He might take the grinder home to his wife for her use, but he 'd 124 Clever Business Sketches hardly place an order for our assortment simply to get u machine to give to her." "I am not," replied Weston, smiling, "relying upon the husbandly gallantry of our dealers, Mr. Zent, for the success of my plan." Weston began sketching roughly on the paper be- fore him. "This," he said, "represents a large, col- ored, lithographed cut-out of a young man sharpening a pair of shears on his little grinding machine. At his left are reproduced illustrations in actual size of each shear in your line of 'Tite-Cut' shears, with the price prominently brought out below each. In connection with these there is to be an enlarged illustration of the 'Tite-Cut' take-up principle, showing how the wear at the bearing can not loosen the blades. Below these shear illustrations, in prominent letters are the words: ' Your shears ground free ! ! Every pair of ' ' Tite-Cut ' ' Shears purchased of us will be ground and perfectly sharpened for a period of two years absolutely with- out charge at any time that they may be dull.' This eut-out must be a very striking one, but it and the little machine will constitute your advertising with the exception of a dealers' distribution booklet on shear history and shear making that I have in mind." "But will the dealer want to go to the trouble of grinding shears free?" asked Zent. "Most certainly," replied Weston. "With this lit- tle machine" he or one of his clerks can do it easily, quickly and satisfactorily while the customer waits, only a minute or two. Don't you see that it will bring customers into the store, which is most desirable? Be- sides the free grinding feature and the striking show- window cut-out will sell more shears than your com- petitor's big advertising campaign. I believe the job- bers will jump at these assortments when you will have begun to put them out. The idea is so practical, the little grinding machines so neat and clever and the window display cut-out will be so striking that the jobber and his salesmen will be glad to feature it. Salesmen like new and interesting things to show to dealers, and it brightens them up on their other lines. The Strange Case of Clement Zent 125 Enthusing the jobbers' salesmen means sales to the dealer every time. With the salesman talking the as- sortments, the dealer will place his order for one at once." "Yes, and each jobber has from three to a hundred or more salesmen," said Zent thoughtfully. "It's a big field." The straw was growing into a fair-sized log. "None finer," said Weston, "and, what is more important to you, you get your money in ten days." "I am favorably impressed as to the practicability of your plan," Mr. Weston," said Zent. "It has all the elements of success, I believe. The time in which I shall have to make good is short. I shall have to decide quickly, and there is no other feasible plan in sight." He looked inquiringly at Weston, who re- plied : "I know of none better. ' ' "Then we will adopt it," said Zent decisively. "For the next year I am ready to follow to the letter your instructions, and to abide by the policy you may outline in this business." Weston drew his repeater from his vest and noted the time. "Please call up Warren, of the Colonial Lithograph Company, and have him prepare a color sketch and model of the cut-out along the lines sug- gested by me. Have him come out and get the copy from you, which I know you are advertising man enough to lay out and write up according to my out- line. Also have two thousand of the little grinding machines made up and order material for ten thousand more. When Warren delivers the model and sketch to you, call me up, as I wish to O. K. it with you. Also attend to the other matters I spoke to you about, es- pecially that of getting in all outstanding accounts at once by means of special discounts. "Keep a close rein on Kendall and pin him down on everything. Keep a lookout for a successor for him in case you find that, as I have said, he is more crafty than wise, is neglecting things and has been pulling the wool over your eyes. "I will send an assistant to correct and install the 126 Clever Business Sketches revised S3'stem for your office work, as suggested by me. May I see that photograph over there on your desk?" "Certainly," replied Zent, handing it to him. "It is my sister's." "I thought so," said Weston, becoming absorbed in a study of the face. He then studied Zent's features thoughtfully. ;ind, handing back the picture, said: "I notice that 'Smith College' is written below her name on the photo." "Yes, Laura attended Smith," returned Zent, ' ' Could you get her to collaborate with an assistant of mine in writing a booklet on shears? I want a woman's temperamental finesse along with a man's practicality in it, because the booklet will go mostly to women. It will be designed for distribution through your new assortment dealers — a handsome affair as to printing, paper-stock and cover, with excellent illus- trations and artistic vignettes. "I wish your sister and my assistant to go into archeology and history for the interesting things con- nected with shears — their origin, manufacture and use. I believe they began in the bronze age and that they have figured in many classic, historic and tragic incidents, as well as being one of woman's best friends in our age of autos and air-ships. Mr. Hayes, here, is the assistant whom I desire to collaborate with Miss Zent in the work." Zent smiled at me as Weston mentioned my name. "I am sure," he said graciously, "that Mr. Hayes will do it splendidly, while Laura is quite proficient in a literary way. I know she will be delighted to be of help in our venture and its work." "Then," said Weston, evidently pleased at the fav- orable reception of his idea, "Mr. Hayes will call upon you both this evening, provided it will be convenient. We have little time to lose in completing my plans." "We will be glad to have him come tonight," said Zid and the Stockwood's tie to a dollar," said the pur- chasing agent, who had rapidly run over the specifica- tions handed him by Jack. "Say, boy, you say you can punch the bag, suppose you peel and give us a taste of your skill." Collins was alarmed; a handy man at athletics himself, he had several years ago in- gratiated himself with Partridge on this score, and had actually swung the yearly contract to his company on the strength of it. On such small pins may great matters hang. Without more ado, Jack stripped to his undershirt and put himself under the frame. He was an artist at the punching bag, and with his sleepy air all gone he proceeded to do a stunt that made the admirer of athletics cry, "Bravo!" while Collins, plainly growing angry, could not conceal his chagrin. A notion entered the purchasing agent's head that gave him enormous delight. "Collins, old fellow," he cried, "I'm going to put that contract up as a purse for you two fellows to box for, and the best man shall have it. "What do you say?" The angry Collins looked his adversary over and promptly decided to go in. Forbes was a lighter man than himself, and while spry at bag punching — well, boxing was another matter. "I'll go you," he said. Two pairs of "mitts" were taken down from the wall and the great man helped the combatants put 230 Clever Business Sketches them on, and, backing away into a corner, called, "Time!" Space will not afford a minute account of the battle royal. Jack Forbes say before him the triumph of his life, and Collins perceived his possible undoing be- fore they had been at it two minutes. Biff ! Punch ! Thump! And then a lot of "infighting," while the purchasing agent danced around them, first commend- ing one and then the other. "Bang!' A blow from Forbes 's glove sent Collins against the door to the outer office, which swung open unheeded. Biff! came back a crack that swung Jack into the form of the purchasing agent. Silently the wondering clerks gathered about the open door, while the two contestants ducked and pummeled, their hoarse breath- ing telling of their fast-going powers. Suddenly Jack cut loose in one last mighty effort and landed a blow under Collins' chin as that person came one heavily on Jack's ear. Both went to the floor, and the pur- chasing agent began to count in true prize-ring style. Jack, with two ghastly black eyes, wobbled to his feet, but Collins lay still. Jack had won ! " 'Rah! 'rah! Whoop! Good for the little 'un! Bravo!" came from the excited clerks crowding the doorway, and Mr. Partridge, noticing them for the first time, pulled himself together and in his most se- vere manner ordered them back to work. "Jackson," he added to the head clerk, "you will please make out the lumber contract in the name of the Stoekwood company and bring it in to me to sign, and — Jackson, send the janitor in with some warm water. ' ' ###### "I guess I've lost my secretary," said Mr. Goodsell to himself, as the second day went by with no signs of life from Forbes. "I'm sorry, too, for he is as smart as a whip, if a trifle fresh . I should not have lost my temper and given him that ultimatum." The manager's attention was attracted by a limping figure coming down the street from the depot. IIow Jack Closed the Deal 231 "Hello! That looks like him coming now, but ■what's the matter with him? Heavens, what a face!" as Jack turned a swollen countenance toward him adorned with the above-mentioned black eyes. "Here's your year's contract, Mr. Goodsell ; I had to lick Collins, the Lakeport man, to get it," said Jack, cheerfully. "The devil you did!" said the astounded Goodsell. THE STICKER. BY EDGAR DAYTON PRICE. "Heigh-ho!" yawned Charley Peterson, sitting up on his high stool in the office of the Brilliant Varnish Works and stretching his cramped arms. "This is tough," he sighed, addressing nobody in particular. "A tall young man like me, made for the out-of-doors and hustle a-plenty, condemned to sit on a high stool and make out unending bills for varnish." "There are hundreds of young fellows who would jump for that high stool of yours if it should chance to become vacant," said the book-keeper, eyeing the young fellow severely over his spectacles. "It's all right — any excuse for getting a start with the Brilliant," said Charlie hastily. "I suppose you've got to creep before you can walk, but my burn- ing ambition is to get out and sell varnish — lots of it. Say, Mr. Goodsell," coaxingly, "I've been here three months and I'm saturated with Brilliant varnish. I've got Brilliant varnish on my trousers and Brilliant var- nish in my hair, and I've even eaten a little Brilliant varnish — can't you speak a good word for me and have me sent on the road on trial?" The book-keeper sighed. "Ever sell anything?" he asked. "No-o, I haven't," admitted Charlie. "But I know — ' ' "They all know," said the book-keeper. "I have seen dozens of men start out to sell varnish, firmly convinced that they had it in them to dazzle the trade and gobble the orders, but when they found themselves up against the men from about a hundred competing houses, just as good as the Brilliant, they soon lost heart, began to sag, and then — off went their heads." "You talk as if varnish salesmen were born and not made," said Charlie doubtingly. "There's something born in them that makes them salesmen," admitted Goodsell, "and that is — grit. The 233 The Sticker 233 varnish business is peculiar; you can get a working knowledge of it in a month sufficienl to start out on the road, but unless you've got never-dying grit, you may know your goods, be affable and all that, but you'll fail." "I've played football," said Charlie. "You don 't go at folks that way, ' ' laughed the book- keeper, "you just stick till you make your sale. Talk- ing about stickers, I recommend Mr. Flint, our presi- dent, as a pattern — he 's the best salesman in the busi- ness. ' ' "He certainly gets fine contracts," said Charlie, who saw the shipments on the president's contracts and handsomely billed them. "I've never seen Mr. Flint ; where is he now ? ' ' "On his vacation, I guess," said the book-keeper; "we don't see much of him around here — he's one of your kind, made for out-of-doors." The subject was dropped and the tall invoice clerk turned to his task somewhat enlightened. "I can stick some — if I'm teased," he muttered. There were opportunities for selling varnish and making fat contracts in the Brilliant office, and Mr. Goodsell, the book-keeper, was an able office salesman. Many of the customers of the house had the old-fash- ioned habit of journeying to the works to make their dickers, expecting and never failing to be taken around and shown the varnish in the making, and — what was more gratifying — enjoying a first class time at the expense of the Brilliant people. Occasionally strangers came in, and their method of treatment had to be modified. Once Goodsell knew the stranger's house, its size and varnish-buying ability, its mercan- tile standing and its reputation for paying, he hooked to the stranger, talked grades and prices, brought forth samples by the dozen and did business on its merits imtil he landed his fish. Every visitor w'as handled according to his peculiarities, and there was only one unvarying rule — not to let him escape without buying. A record was kept of every man who came in on a varnish quest, and there had to be explanations to 234 Clever Business Six etches Mr. Flint if a good possible customer slipped away. AVhen a representative of some concern which had formerly bought Brilliant varnish but had gone over to a competitor came in, things whirled until the man renewed his allegiance to Brilliant, and time and money were nothing. The tall young man making out bills looked at all this with sharp eyes and listened with long ears. In his career of a few months he saw plenty of examples of "grit" and "stick," for Goodsell had been a heaven-born salesman himself until sickness had in- capacitated him for the road. In his noon hours and other moments of leisure, Charlie fiddled around out- side in the works, poking his nose into huge kettles and asking endless questions of grimy varnish boilers and mixers, with all of whom he was a prime favorite. The chemists liked Charlie and guided him in making practical tests of varnish at his boarding house, much to the landlady's discomfort, who occasionally ac- quired an unwished-for gloss, from messes of varnish left carelessly around. "Oh, for an opportunity," sighed Charlie, filled with all this lore. "If I could only get Goodsell out sometime and make one good capture, maybe — " Charlie didn't know it, but his chance was coming. "There's going to be something doing this week," said the book-keeper, casually, one Monday morning as he opened the mail. "David Abercrombie, the sec- retary of the International Chair Company, writes that he expects to call on our Mr. Flint in relation to a contract for a year's supply of varnish. The Unex- celled people got the International away from us last time — 500 barrels of fillers, dipping varnish and rub- bing varnish — about $30,000 worth. I wish Mr. Flint was here, but — David's got to place that contract with the Brilliant this time, or I'll break a leg." "Whew! $30,000 in one contract," said Charlie, wistfully. "Cheer up," said the book-keeper kindly. "You're doing good work, and when Flint comes home I'll speak that word for you." The Sticker 235 "Oh, thank you," said the invoice clerk, overjoyed. Tuesday and Wednesday passed, and no Abercrom- bie came. Thursday and Friday likewise effaced them- selves from the calendar, and still no secretary of the International Chair Company. The book-keeper was puzzled, but there was nothing to do but wait on Mr. Abercrombie 's pleasure. Saturday was a half-holiday in the summer months, and this particular Saturday came two days before the Fourth of July which fell on Monday. Goodsell gave the matter up when the gentleman had not arrived by half-past eleven on Sat- urday morning. "I'm going to take my family out of town over the Fourth, Peterson," he said to the invoice clerk as he put on his coat. Abercrombie won't bother us now until after the holiday — if he bothers us at all. I'm afraid the Unexcelled people have gobbled him again. ' ' The going of Goodsell was the signal to depopulate the offices, the clerks all having their private holiday business to attend to, and in ten minutes, Charlie, who wanted to quit with a clean desk, was alone in his glory. "How I wish — " began Charlie. His w T ish dealt with the recalcitrant Abercrombie, but got no farther, for the door banged open, and a w r ell-dressed man of middle age came in breezily. "All hands gone?" demanded the stranger, pulling out his watch. "Where's Goodsell or — " Charlies fought a tendency to faint away and jumped down from his stool. "Come right in, Mr. Abercrombie," he said pleas- antly, "we've been looking for you all week, and Mr. Goodsell gave you up ten minutes ago and went away." "Eh, what?'' said the stranger, looking queerly. ' ' Oh, yes, I expected to get here before this, but I was detained. Who are you?" "I'm Mr. Charles Peterson," said the invoice clerk. "Don't let the fact that Mr. Flint and Mr. Goodsell are away bother you, for I am conversant with the sit- 236 Clever Business Sketches uation and prepared to discuss matters right to the bottom. ' ' "Oh, you are?" said Mr. Abercrombie. He spoke rather crossly and Charlie reflected that the hour of noon was not the time to plunge for a $30,000 con- tract. He mentally figured the amount of money in his pocket and his savings in a drawer in the safe ; the total was $68. "I was just about going to lunch, Mr. Abercrom- bie," he said cordially. "Won't you join me?" The secretary of the International Chair Company gazed doubtfully at the tall young man before him. "I guess I'll — " he began, but Charlie had his hat and coat on and was banging the safe doors to, after extracting his wealth. " 'Never take no for an answer,' " he said, and led the bewildered Abercrombie straight to the Fanshaw House, the swellest hotel in town. "Order for both, please," said Mr. Peterson, when they were comfortably seated under a big electric fan. Mr. Abercrombie had apparently yielded to the situ- ation and ordered a double porterhouse with mush- rooms, a salad, sundry side dishes and a bottle of wine. "I can't join you there," said Charlie, honestly. "Eh? You a varnish man and not drink wine?" demanded Abercrombie. "Yes, sir," said Charlie stoutly. The secretary for- bore any more comments and the lunch proceeded with the utmost pleasantness. Abercrombie was a good guest but Charlie afterward reflected that he had done most of the talking himself. The conversation touched on anything but varnish, and got by degrees around to colleges, which brought up football, and Charlie fought half a dozen games over again, his eyes snapping. Dessert came and went, and Charlie called for the bill. It was $12.60 and he paid it without a blink. "You must have had some plan on foot for the afternoon," said the International man as they left the hotel. "Yes, I had," said the invoice clerk. "T was going The Sticker 237 to a quiet place about 30 miles in the country where they have a dandy golf links — 18 hole — ever play golf?" "Some," said Abcrcrombie, who was acting ill at ease for a man who had just had a $12.60 lunch. Sev- eral people had looked at him as if about to speak, and he had turned his head abruptly. "Be my guest," said Charlie, his heart palpita- ting. "Whew! It's hot in this town — glad to get out in the country — quiet golf has its charms — guess I'll go you," said Abcrcrombie disjointedly, turning down a side street. There was a handy train and the pair journeyed to the scene of rural delight, Mr. Aber- crombie becoming perceptibly easier as the miles grow behind them. "When is he going to unbutton about that $30,000 contract?" thought the invoice clerk, and talked in- terestingly himself about everything else. The afternoon was waning when they arrived at their destination and a cool breeze was blowing. Char- lie had a good bag of sticks, plenty for two, and they peeled down to their negligee shirts, lit remarkably good cigars which Abcrcrombie produced, and set forth over the course which abounded in natural scen- ery. Abercrombie was easy now, and happy as a boy. Charlie was no mean hand at the game himself, but here was a man who put him to his trumps. The $30,000 contract faded for the present, for the busi- ness of his life just then was to beat Abercrombie. and the two went out and in over the 18-hole course like a pair of distinguished generals fighting a deadly cam- paign. At the last hole they stood even and Charlie to play. He sized up the distance, swung his club, steadied his beating heart, and — muffed. Abercrom- bie made his play and holed. "Gad! what a game!" he breathed, while Charlie grinned ruefully. "Do you suppose Mrs. Flint's in town?" asked the secretary suddenly. "I — I'm slightly acquainted with her, and perhaps she — " 238 Clever Business Sketches Charlie's man was going to get away from him and nothing said about the contract! "I believe she's been expecting Mr. Flint to re- turn, but he hasn't come, and she's at one of her mar- ried daughter's," said Charlie, fully resolved to in- vite himself along if Mr. Abercrombie persisted in his design. "Which daughter?" asked Abercrombie. Charlie couldn't tell. "Oh, well, it'll keep," said the secre- tary, to Charlie's infinite relief, and asked about the hotels in the neighborhood of the links. "There's a good one down by the river," said the bill clerk, dissembling his satisfaction, and led the way to the cosy retreat surrounded by willows, where they bathed luxuriously and supped without a recollection of the $12.60 lunch in the middle of the day. "Come spend the evening in my room," said Aber- crombie cordially, as they left the table. "I've a lit- tle proposition to make which I think will fill in the time pleasantly." At last the $30,000 contract! Seated in rocking chairs, smoking some of Abercrom- bie 's fine cigars, that gentleman cleared his throat, and said: "Any scruples about taking a hand at cribbage with a trifle up to make it interesting?" Charlie swallowed a cussword and admit led that he sometimes indulged in the game, whereupon the sec- retary produced a peg-board he had borrowed from the barkeeper together with a pack of cards, and with keen enjoyment whiled the hours away until midnight, taking Charlie's dollars from him. "Good night, my young friend," said Abercrom- bie. "I am a busy man without much time for the frivolities, and I want to thank you for one of the happiest days I ever spent in my life. If I can do anything for you in return, command me." If he could do anything for him ! Charlie counted over his money which had shrunk from $68 to $29.40, for he had paid for everything, and lost over $20 at cribbage besides, a game he thought he could play un- til that evening. Why in the name of sense didn 't the man come to the center and fight it out about that con- The Sticker 239 tract? That would be doing something for him. Thus reflecting, Charlie, being exceedingly tired, went off to sleep. The next day was Sunday and Abercrombie at breakfast asked Charlie aboul his attitude on Sunday golf. Charlie's attitude displayed itself in a prompt challenge to set forth, and he proceeded to whip his adversary savagely on the field where he himself had suffered defeat the day before. Abercrombie chuckled and was hugely delighted at the outcome, and sug- gested church, and the pair hunted up a place of wor- ship, denomination unknown, and listened to a vivid description of the hereafter of those who broke the Sabbath by playing golf. It was most edifying. Monday was the Fourth of July and as a holiday a failure, for it was raining and golf was not prac- ticable. It was a good day for discussing $30,000 con- tracts, thought Charlie, and was half tempted to broach the subject and learn his fate. Somebody said that the pickerel were biting in a pond not far away, and Abercrombie hinted that he hadn't fished in years. There is no better place in tffe world to talk business than a boat on a pond on a rainy day with the fish biting, so Charlie rose to the hint, borrowed a couple of overeoats, bought bait, hired a boat and tackle and they fished royally all day with never a word about varnish. On Tuesday, Charlie omitted to go back to the in- voice desk of the Brilliant Varnish Works, and in- stead, got a loan on his watch from the hotel clerk and hired a team and took Mr. Abercrombie driving over some beautiful country. The secretary of the International Chair Company was charmed. On Wednesday they fished in the morning and golfed in the afternoon. On Thursday the same in every par- ticular. On Friday, Charlie was confronted with the fact that he was broke, probably out of a job and 30 miles from home, and listened with joy to a wild prop- osition of Abercrombie to walk in and take the day to it. They walked, and Abercrombie suddenly recalled 240 Clever Business Sketches the object of his visit to the Brilliant Varnish Works. Fillers, dipping varnish and rubbing varnish, prices, terms, the faults of the varnishes in the past, the faults in shipping and twenty other phases were re- viewed, and Charlie fought manfully for his firm. Abercrombie knew what he was talking about, Charlie could see it, and when the secretary coaxed him along to the subject of varnish manufacture and tests, Char- lie gave himself free rein and turned himself inside out with a flood of eloquence in favor of Brilliant var- nishes over all the rest of the varnishes in the world, which would have amazed Goodsell if he could have heard it. "The Unexcelled people beat the Brilliant folks in one respect," said Abercrombie, "their salesmen are more persistent, They have had a man at the International factory for three days, fighting for a renewal of the contract, and now that I Ve heard both sides, I think I will give the contract to that persistent fellow.' ' The young man tramping at Mr. Abercrombie 's side loomed about dlven feet tall as he delivered his ulti- matum. "Mr. Abercrombie," he said, "if persistence is what appeals to you, I have stuck to you for a solid week, waiting for you to broach the varnish subject. I am going to stick to you like an old man of the mountain and talk Brilliant varnish until I get that contract. If I die before I get it, my ghost will walk beside you until the contract is handed in. That contract is righteously the property of the Brilliant Varnish Works and if you had talked to Robert Flint, you would have given it to him, you know you would, for he has got the varnish world skinned when it comes to persistence. Now, I want that contract!" "Oh, take the blamed contract, Mr. Charles Peter- son," said Abercrombie, "I guess I've drawn you out enough." "Shake!" roared that gentleman and wrung Mr. Abercrombie's hand. "I've got it! I've got it!" declaimed Charlie, The Sticker 241 bouncing into the quiet offices of the Brilliant Var- nish Works on Saturday morning. "Got what?" asked Goodsell severely. "The jim- jams ? ' ' "The International $30,000 contract!" shouted the invoice clerk. "Nonsense!" said the book-keeper. "Mr. Flint got wind that Abercrombie was coming, and he stopped off and saw Abercrombie, beat the Unexcelled, horse, foot and dragoons, and got the contract!" "Wh — wh — who in blazes have I been sticking to like a leech for the last week, thinking it was Aber- crombie?" asked Charlie, with a dismal vision of a good $100 gone to the bad. "Mr. Flint's back and wants to see you," said the book-keeper curtly. Sadly the tall young fellow made his way to the private offices, where Mr. Flint was busily dictating letters. The voice sounded familiar to the invoice clerk — where had he heard it? He twisted the door knob and walked in. "Hello, you sticking-plaster, Mr. Charles Peterson, I hear you're suffering to go on the road and sell var- nish," said Mr. Flint, smiling amiably. "Well, try it at $2,000 a year for a starter, and — much obliged for my happy week!" THE WYANDOTTE SHARES BY EDGAR DAYTON PRICE Old Sherwin passed in the office as a trifle — just a trifle — crazy. Not that it manifested itself in his work. George Sherwin was a capable and accurate book-keeper, and the books over which he toiled for eight hours every day were marvels of precision and neatness. The lack of sanity showed itself in the old man in his interest in stocks. Feverishly he followed the market, keeping tabs on 50 or 60 stocks, from Western Union and Northern Pacific down through the list to the "Industrials," some of which lacked a footing on the stock exchange. A $20 a week book-keeper without a spare $10 bill to bless himself with, going home with a long face over the fact that some stock had dropped 10 points — of course he was a bit crazy. The office did not know the old man's history, how in his younger days he had been a broker on the "street" and a sharp one, how he had transgressed the unwritten rule of brokerage never to speculate on your own account, how he had made one of those wild successes which sometimes last a fortnight, and how, in the windup, the market cleaned him up with neatness and dispatch and after a week of frantic fighting to retrieve himself sent him to his bed with brain fever. It was probable that during the heyday of his suc- cess old George had been a trifle crazy. The brain fever left him sane enough, without any outward long- ing for speculation and an unimpaired ability to keep books. He could have had a job in a dozen broker's offices, keeping the complicated records of the stock business, but he had a terror of the game and went away, to turn up years later in the manufacturing town where we find him keeping books at $20 a week for the Peebles factory of the Amalgamated Button Company. 242 The Wyandotte Shares 243 With the years had come a dulling of the terror of the days that had "wiped him out," and the old man kept sheets on the market and did an imaginary business in Wall Street. He made some shrewd guesses, too, and if he had actually margined the stocks he had slated for a big rise, he could have sold out a rich man. On the other hand, he sometimes missed and the favorite stock went down. Those were the days he went home with a long face. There was quite an opportunity right in town for speculation in a not very expensive way if the book- keeper had had the money. The manufacturing plants were all big ones — cotton mills, steel plants, sewing machines, agricultural implements and so on. Not a one but was incorporated with stock and bonds to sell, some of the securities being held in the local mar- ket at a few cents per share. Everybody who made a little over their necessities bought shares of some kind; all the employes of the different concerns were privileged, nay, requested, to buy preferred stock in their employers' businesses, and down-town there was a place where local stocks were bought and sold. There are possibilities in industrials, even at a few cents per share. In times of prosperity, holders of local securities received dividends, and the value of their holdings soared. The shipping clerk in the Peebles factory was a devotee to Consolidated Loco- motive, the Burnham and Barry branch of which was located down by the railroad, and one day he came into the office radiant and had the book-keeper cash him a check for $160. "What do you think of that, Pop?" he asked jubi- lantly. "That check represents an outlay of $40 in Consolidated Chu-Chu Futures when things were so slack six months ago. Now they are full of orders and everything humming, and I've sold out $120 to the good — money found. Why don't you go in? The old speculator's eyes glowed as he straightened out the neat check. He knew in a way about the local industrial situation, but it seemed puerile beside the doings of the New York market, and he had not both- 244 Clever Business Sketches ered with it. And here was a chap drawing $15 a week actually cleaning up $120 of money, real money, while he, George Sherwin, frittered away his time to no purpose. A bunch of money, not a large bunch, would do so much, too. There was that place for sale, 10 miles out, house, barn, boat house and 10 acres of ground on a lake — a man could keep chickens there, chickens ! and a horse and cow and a boat on the lake for fishing purposes. Three thousand dollars would buy it. "I've got no money to throw away," he said. "This rise in Locomotive is a mere fluke." "Fluke nothing," said the shipping clerk. "I saw it a-coming. And some of the boys have made money in thread stocks — buying for a fall. The thread mills have passed a dividend and the stocks are away off, sure enough. And there is the "Wardell Plow Com- pany stock — " "Here's your money, go away," growled the book- keeper, frightened at the feeling the talk had engen- dered. "All right, stick to those big deals that are keeping you poor," said the shipping clerk, winking elabo- rately. It was shortly after this the book-keeper took to keeping chickens. Mrs. Sherwin and the girls were delighted when one day the taciturn man came home early and went to tinkering with an old shanty on their place, and it developed that he was making it into a chicken house. If the wound of their earlier days had healed in the husband, it had not in the wife, who for months back had watched her preoccupied mate ficmring, figuring interminably evenings by the fir<\7ind who saw the old gambling propensity grow- ing in him again. If he would only take to chickens it would be a hobby to take his attention when he wasn't keeping books, and he would have no time to bother with those things which had come so near wrecking their happiness. "Tlere's the beginning of our flock," said George, The Wyandotte Shares 245 coming home the next Saturday with a big Wyan- dotte rooster under his arm. "What a pretty fowl," cried the women, delighted. "He ought to be pretty," said the husband grimly, "he cost me $10." "Ten dollars!" shrieked Mrs. Sherwin, aghast. "I chanced to have the money saved and had a notion to take a little flier — " "It's all right, Geordie, " said Mrs. Sherwin quickly, "I only thought $10 a little bit extravagant for one rooster, but you know best. He's such a handsome fellow, you ought to give him a name." "I'm going to call him 'Stitch,' " said the book- keeper gravely, withal a twinkle in his eye. " 'Stitch!' " cried the mother and the two daugh- ters, in concert. "See here, ma, and you two girls, can't 1 keep a few fowls and call them by names of my own without you getting mad?" he asked. "Wait till I buy the hens and name 'em and you won't think ' Stitch' anything. I have my little whims, but if they are going to make you unhappy, 111 — " "Goodness! call the birds anything you like," said the women, while "Stitch," released, flew to the top of the fence and crowed loudly. Sherwin 's selection of hens was the talk of the neighborhood and gave painful recurrence to the whispers about his sanity. From his savings he bought them one at a time, and the first hen was a Bramah, christened "Twist." A Plymouth Rock fol- lowed, labeled ' ' Wire, ' ' a Cochin China called ' ' Reap- er," a brown Leghorn gravely named "Peebles," ap- parently after the factory that employed him. Of the flock no two were of the same breed, they came one at a time at intervals and the prices the old man claimed to have paid for them were simply outrageous and kept the family short for da} r s afterward. "Stitch," the rooster, lorded it over the heterogeneous flock and the owner sat by the hour and proudly watched them busily picking up their living. If rumors of his brain trouble which resulted in the outlandish names reached 246 Clever Business Sketches him, he did not deign to notice them and in a short time the whim ceased to attract attention. The chicken fad was a fortunate one for the old man. He was out bright and early working in the hen house, and never were fowls so tenderly cared for. As hens will, they reciprocated the attention lavished on them, and laid eggs right royally ; eggs big and eggs little, eggs brown and eggs white, speckled eggs and double yolks — the family had eggs to eat and eggs to sell. Sherwin quit his imaginary speculation in stocks and instead, opened up a set of books with his hens over which he never tired working. It was quite easy to fall into stock nomenclature in keeping track of the hens and their doings. When "Twist" or "Wire" or "Reaper" were laying regu- larly, their market was "rising," when they moulted and shortened on laying, the market was "off," and he was "long" or "short" on their products as the case might be. The book-keeper laid out sheets and gravely set down the names of the flock, now count- ing over 25 with another rooster named "Oilcloth" and reduced the fluctuations in hen-fruit to figures on a decimal basis. Strangely enough, both the roosters figured in the sheets, but presumably their percentages were based on the fights they indulged in, in which, however, the Wyandotte invariably won. Sherwin made no secret of his foible in the office, where it created much amusement. "You must be planning to get rich on your poultry yard," laughed the boys; "what are you going to do with your surplus?" "You'll see me living on my own place and driving in behind my trotter yet," said the book-keeper, in no wise moved by the grins. "My hens 'Wire' and 'Twist' are worth three times what I paid for them and are declaring good dividends right along. I've got to the point now where I put the profits of my hens into still more hens, and some of these days I'll strike a hen that lays golden eggs, and then — the trotter." "Fine, fine!" said the office help, sadly tapping The Wyandotte Shares 247 their foreheads behind Sherwin 's back. It was a pity that the book-keeper had not taken to keeping hens years before. He lost his taciturnity and actually whistled as he tossed his ledgers about, and one day he opened a bank account. "You see," he explained to the banker, "my hens are making money for me and I need a place to keep it safe. Then, too, 1 am meditating going into the hen business wholesale and I will want to borrow money. ' ' "Made up your mind what breeds to plunge on?" asked the amused banker, who knew all about the 25 and more varieties. "Yes," said his customer gravely, "I do. There will be an elimination in my varieties to two or three very soon — I have spotted the best layers by keeping sheets on them, and the rest can go to the chopping block for all I care." "Come in and see me when you want to borrow," said the banker. "I guess we can accommodate you to a few hundred — with a good name on your note." ' ' Thanks ; I 'm going to send you a couple of dozen of fresh eggs," said the book-keeper, departing. The women mourned when most of the flock were sacrificed. It was some consolation that Sherwin had not paid big prices for them, and according to him they were not thriving and needed the axe. For a time they ate chicken — roasted, fried, fricassed and boiled, and the back yard looked deserted. "Never mind, ma," said the poultry fancier, "those that remain will get along better for my exclusive at- tention and I can work out the problem of that kind that lay the golden eggs" — he chuckled. ' ' Geordie ' ' — the good woman was looking at him ap- prehensively, and he chuckled again. "Don't worry, ma, my head's all right," he de- clared, and started for the Peebles button factory whistling. True to his word, Sherwin became a borrower at the bank, unknown, however, to his women folk. Simultaneously he began to fill up his hen yard with 248 Clever Business Sketches Wyandottes mostly, then "Wires" and "Twists." About this time he hired a carriage for a Sunday after- noon and took Mrs. Sherwin and Adelaide and Gussie for a drive, stopping at a little place on a lake about 10 miles from home to rest. It was a cosy spot, a nice house, a barn, trees, a vegetable garden and the rest grass. There was a boat house and a wharf at the lake, and a little way out, fish were "jumping," in the most alluring manner. "What a paradise this is," sighed the women; "how much better to live here than in that smoky city. You could keep hens by the thousand on a place like this, Geordie," said the wife, wistfully. "When my present 'Stitches,' 'Wires' and 'Twists' work out that golden egg problem among themselves," he chuckled, "we'll buy a place like this, get a horse and a cow and live happy ever after. ' ' "It's time we were starting for home," said the good woman hastily. Somehow, she felt frightened when her husband talked so about his hens — it re- minded her of the days when he had quit brokering for speculating. The "performance sheets," as Sherwin styled his hen-book-keeping, were quite easy to keep now, re- duced to three classes. Unending attention worked wonders with the flocks; the Wyandottes, Bramahs and Plymouth Rocks were separated, quite filling the narrow quarters, and the fine big eggs were saved and hatched out in an incubator. There was a ready sale at big prices for settings of eggs and young pullets, and really, Sherwin was making quite a profit on his investment. Not enough to account for a bank book carefully kept locked in his desk at the Peebles fac- tory with several hundreds to his credit or the easy accommodation he was getting at the bank, however. For the Wyandotte rooster, "Stitch," the book- keeper developed a mighty affection as time went on. He often sat and watched the proud fowl, lord of the back yard, and muttered things beneath his breath. The finest of living was none too good for the big rooster and a world of petting "Stitch" got from his The Wyandotte Shares 249 attentive master. "Was it possible that from the race of "Stitch" the golden eggs were to come? The shipping clerk of the Peebles factory was by this time a regular speculator in the local "indus- trial" stock market. The profits on his deal in "Chu- Chu" had gone in a dozen different directions for in- dustrial shares which he bought aud sold industriously as the values fluctuated. The shipping clerk was not always wise in his investments and formed the habit of consulting with the book-keeper, whose former con- nection with the big stock market had leaked out. Sherwin took time from figuring his performance sheets to give the shipping clerk counsel, and in turn the shipping clerk reported the many rumors he picked up of happenings in the various industries likely to affect the price of shares. "I want your advice on 'Sewing Machine,' Sher- win," he said one day. "There is something new going on in the Standard factory, and a friend of mine there, a pattern-maker, tips me that it is a new inven- tion, something that will make the sewing machine trust crazy when the Standard machine comes out with it. He doesn 't know this positively, just a flying shop rumor, you know, but what with somebody buying 'Sewing Machine' pretty freely, the stock is stiffen- ing, and — " ' ' Buy it, my boy, buy it — for a rise, ' ' said the book- keeper. ' ' I happen to know that the Standard people have been kicking the price down for some reason, and it may be that they are going to buy it back cheap if they've got a good thing cooking and make all the money for themselves. Buy it by all means." The bookkeeper turned his back and went on figuring his absurd hen-sheets and the shipping clerk went away. Sherwin went down to the bank in the middle of the morning and borrowed $1,000 with which he purchased poultry, making a neat entry on the per- formance sheet under the head, "Stitch." "The time is ripe," he muttered. ?50 Clever Business Sketches The shipping clerk bought "Sewing Machine," a very little, for "Sewing Machine" was on the rise and the Standard people were buying back their stock as fast as offered. In a few days he hastily sold it, for "Sewing Machine," never worth more than 90 cents a share, was kiting alone to the impossible price of $2. A week later the shipping clerk was kicking him- self, metaphorically, all over the Peebles factory, for "Sewing Machine" was bid at $5 the share and none offered. That rumor about the new invention was a fact. In a fortnight it was whispered that the Standard people were in a hole over their own stock. The orig- inal issue had been 500,000 shares at $1 per share, 10 shares being given outright for a time with every machine sold, as a premium on a rather poor sewing machine. Now, when they had an improvement which made their machine highly valuable, they found that others had been busy picking up Standard stock, and that the company was a minority holder of its own stock, being short several thousand shares. It soon developed who had bought the stock, for agents of the sewing machine trust, throwing aside all disguise, came into the open and bought right and left at any price. The Standard people frantically tried to out- bid them. It was a fight for existence on one side and mo- nopoly on the other. If the trust won and got a majority of the shares they took the Standard com- pany and the valuable improvement into camp, the improvement went on the trust machines and the in- ventors were "squeezed." If the Standard succeeded in buying a few shares, it could hold its position and in a few years wipe the trust off the face of the earth with its superior machine. Both sides ransacked the country and bought shares at ruinous prices and the contest quickly narrowed down to the possession of 2,500 shares — both parties had approximately 248,000 shares, and the one that got hold of the missing block of 2,500 would win the mastery. Somehow it was learned by the trust agents and the Standard people The Wyandotte Shares 251 that the block was owned right in town, and a sleep- less hunt for it was begun. George Sherwin was sitting in his poultry yard, smoking a pipe and meditating as he threw corn to his favorite rooster. His meditations were interrupted by a man who came running from the house. At the same time another man tumbled over the back fcmce. ' ' I understand you are the owner of 2,500 shares of Standard stock," they said simultaneously, glowering at one another. Sherwin chuckled. "Do you see that rooster there?" he said; "his name's 'Stitch' — named for the Standard sewing ma- chine. Now, supposing 'Stitch' stands for 2,500 shares of Standard stock, what '11 you give me for my rooster ? ' ' "Fifteen thousand dollars," said the "Trust" promptly. "Twenty," roared the Standard man. 'Thirty," bellowed the "Trust." 'Fifty thousand dollars," said the Standard man, w 7 hite-faced. Sherwin recognized him as the president of the company. "I'll have to consult my principals," pleaded the Trust ' ' man. ' ' Will you hold off for half an hour ? ' ' "Fifty thousand, one — two — three, do I hear any more? Sold — to the president of the Standard Sew- ing Machine Company, and a mighty fine Wyandotte rooster you've bought for the money," declared the rooster's owner. "Would you mind stepping into the house to complete the transaction?" "Geordie, what's the matter?" asked his wife, half- crying. She had sent the president of the Standard company out in the yard to see her husband, the worthy declining to wait in the parlor, and the noise of the bargaining had come ominously to her ears. "Matter? Why, I've found the hen that lays the golden eggs, and 'tain't a hen, either — it's my rooster, ' Stitch, ' who stood for 2,500 shares of sewing machine stock, that I've just sold for $50,000." "Geordie!" said his wife wildly. i i 252 Clever Business Sketches 'I ain't crazy, ma. I've been doing a little specu- lating in stocks right here in town, and to keep you from worrying, I 've made you think it was hens I was dabbling in. 'Stitch' has stood all along for Sewing Machine, 'Wire' for the wire mill, and 'Twist' is tho thread factory, et cetera, et cetera." When the news got to the office, there was a quick revision of opinions about old Sherwin, the book- keeper. "Crazy? I wish I came from the same lunatic asy- lum," was the envious cry. 'What are you going to do with your wealth, George?" they asked the man, busily writing in his ledgers as usual. "Going to buy back my Wyandotte rooster and move to paradise," he said with a chuckle. DATE DUE 1 GAYLORD PRINT EO IN U 8 A UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 270 736 2 I til if life 1 ft Ut,ti)b*\*i\* w 1 il I K mmWSmm illliillll : U IP ill up iiiiil Hi i ill!! Si Hi! I ml \\m lilt il ill mm li