Tales of the Road 
 
'HE IS THE STEAM AND A BIG PART OF THE ENGINE TOO- 
 THAT MAKES BUSINESS MOVE." 
 
TALES OF THE ROAD 
 
 CHARLES N. CREWDSON 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY J. J. GOULD 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 THOMPSON & THOMAS 
 1905 
 
GENERAL; 
 
 Copyright, 1904, by 
 The Curtis Publishing Company. 
 
 Copyright, 1905, by 
 The Curtis Publishing Company. 
 
 Copyright, 190$, by 
 Charles N. Crewdson. 
 
 Entered at Stationers' Hall. 
 
 First Edition, 
 September i, 1905. 
 
 Second Edition, 
 October i, 190$. 
 
 Third Edition, 
 October 10, 1905. 
 
 It. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
 CHICAGO 
 
Dedicated to Alex C Ritchey, Salesman, 
 the Author's Friend. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 I The square deal wins 15 
 
 II Clerks, cranks and touches 35 
 
 III Social arts as salesmen's assets 5 2 
 
 IV Tricks of the trade 68 
 
 V The helping hand 85 
 
 VI How to get on the road 102 
 
 VII First experiences in selling 118 
 
 VIII Tactics in selling 1 139 
 
 IX Tactics in selling II 161 
 
 X Tactics in selling III 176 
 
 XI Cutting prices ^ 194 
 
 XII Canceled orders ^ 207 
 
 XIII Concerning credit men 228 
 
 XIV Winning the customer's good will 250 
 
 XV Salesmen's don'ts 271 
 
 XVI Merchants the salesman meets 294 
 
 XVII Hiring and handling salesmen 319 
 
 XVIII Hearts behind the order book 342 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 He is the steam and a big part of the engine 
 
 too that makes business move Frontispiece 
 
 Larry let business drop entirely and danced a jig 33 
 
 "Whenever I let go the buggy handle the baby yelled" 57 
 
 "To-night we dance, to-morrow we sell clothes again" 63 
 
 "I listened to episodes in the lives of all those seven 
 
 children " 83 
 
 " I braced the old man It wasn't exactly a freeze but 
 
 there was a lot of frost in the air " 105 
 
 " You ought to have seen his place " 11$ 
 
 " My stomach was beginning to gnaw, but I didn't 
 
 dare go out " 137 
 
 "In big headlines I read 'Great Fire in Chicago'" 149 
 
 " Well, Woody," said he, " You seem to be taking things 
 
 pretty easy " 154 
 
 "You'd better write that down with a pencil" said Harry.. 181 
 
 "Shure, that cigare is a birrd" 188 
 
 "He came in with his before breakfast grouch" 221 
 
 " I'm treed " said the drayman. " They're as heavy 
 
 as lead " 227 
 
 "What explanation have you to make of this, sir?" 235 
 
 "He tried to jolly her along, but she was wise" 339 
 
The author wishes to acknowl- 
 edge his special debt of gratitude 
 to the SATURDAY EVENING POST, 
 of Philadelphia. 
 
Tales of the Road. 
 
 CHAPTER.!, L . . k 
 
 THE SQUARE DEAL WINS. 
 
 ALESMANSHIP is the business of the 
 world ; it is about all there is to the world 
 of business. Enter the door of a success- 
 ful wholesale or manufacturing house and 
 you stand upon the threshold of an establishment rep- 
 resented by first-class salesmen. They are the steam 
 and a big part of the engine, too that makes 
 business move. 
 
 I saw in print, the other day, the statement that 
 salesmanship is the "fourth profession." It is not; 
 it is the first. The salesman, when he starts out to 
 "get there," must turn more sharp corners, "duck" 
 through more alleys and face more cold, stiff winds 
 than any kind of worker I know. He must think 
 quickly, yet use judgment; he must act quickly and 
 still have on hand a rich store of patience; he must 
 work hard, and often long. He must coax one 
 minute and "stand pat" the next. He must per- 
 suade persuade the man he approaches that he needs 
 his goods and make him buy them yes, make him. 
 He is messenger boy, train dispatcher, department 
 
 15 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 buyer, credit man, actor, lawyer and politician all 
 under one hat ! 
 
 By "salesman" I do not mean the man who stands 
 behind the counter and lets the customer who comes 
 to him and wants to buy a necktie slip away because 
 the spots on the silk are blue instead of green; nor 
 do I mean the man who wraps up a collar, size 1 6, 
 and calls "cash;" I mean the man who takes his grip 
 or sample trunks and goes to hunt his customer the 
 traveling salesman. Certainly there are salesmen 
 behind the counter, and he has much in common with 
 the man on the road. 
 
 To the position of traveling salesman attach inde- 
 pendence, dignity, opportunity, substantial reward. 
 Many of the tribe do not appreciate this; those do 
 so best who in time try the "professional life." When 
 they do they usually go back to the road happy to 
 get there again. Yet were they permanently to adopt 
 a profession say the law they would make better 
 lawyers because they had been traveling men. Were 
 many professional men to try the road, they would go 
 back to their first occupation because forced to. The 
 traveling man can tell you why! I bought, a few 
 days ago, a plaything for my small boy. What do 
 you suppose it was? A toy train. I wish him to 
 get used to it for when he grows up I am going to 
 put him on the road hustling trunks. 
 
 My boy will have a better chance for success at this 
 than at anything else. If he has the right sort of stuff 
 
 16 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 in him he will soon lay the foundation for a life suc- 
 cess; if he hasn't I'll soon find it out. As a traveling 
 salesman he will succeed quickly or not at all. In 
 the latter event, I'll set him to studying a profession. 
 When he goes on the road he may save a great 
 part of his salary, for the firm he will represent 
 will pay his living expenses while traveling for 
 them. He will also have many leisure hours, and 
 even months, in which to study for a profession if 
 he chooses; or, if he will, he may spend his "out of 
 season" months in foreign travel or any phase of in- 
 tellectual culture and he will have the money of 
 his own earning with which to do it. Three to six or 
 eight months is as much time as most traveling men 
 can profitably give to selling goods on the road; 
 the rest is theirs to use as they please. 
 
 Every man who goes on the road does not succeed 
 not by any means. The road is no place for 
 drones; there are a great many drops of the honey 
 of commerce waiting in the apple blossoms along 
 the road, but it takes the busy "worker" bee to get 
 it. The capable salesman may achieve great success, 
 not only on the road, but in any kind of activity. 
 "The road" is a great training school. The chair- 
 man of the Transportation Committee in the 
 Chicago city council, only a few years ago was a 
 traveling man. He studied law daily and went into 
 politics while he yet drew the largest salary of any 
 man in his house. Marshall Field was once a trav- 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 eling man; John W. Gates sold barbed wire before 
 he became a steel king. These three men are merely 
 types of successful traveling men. 
 
 Nineteen years ago, a boy of 15, I quit picking 
 worms off of tobacco plants and began to work in a 
 wholesale house, in St. Louis, at $5 per week and 
 I had an even start with nearly every man ever con- 
 nected with the firm. The president of the firm 
 today, now also a bank president and worth a million 
 dollars, was formerly a traveling man; the old vice- 
 president of the house, who is now the head of 
 another firm in the same line, used to be a traveling 
 man; the present vice-president and the president's 
 son-in-law was a traveling man when I went with 
 the firm; one of the directors, who went with the 
 house since I did, is a traveling man. Another who 
 traveled for this firm is today a vice-president of a 
 large wholesale dry goods house; one more saved 
 enough to go recently into the wholesale business for 
 himself. Out of the lot six married daughters of 
 wealthy parents, and thirty or more, who keep on 
 traveling, earn by six months or less of road work, 
 from $1200 to $6000 each year. One has done, 
 during his period of rest, what every one of his 
 fellow salesmen had the chance to do take a degree 
 from a great university, obtain a license (which he 
 cannot afford to use) to practice law, to learn to 
 read, write and speak with ease two foreign Ian- 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 guages and get a smattering of three others, and to 
 travel over a large part of the world. 
 
 Of all the men in the office and stock departments 
 of this firm only two of them have got beyond $25 a 
 week; and both of them have been drudges. One 
 has moved up from slave-bookkeeper to credit-man 
 slave and partner. The other has become a buyer. 
 And even he as well as being a stock man was a city 
 salesman. 
 
 Just last night I met, on leaving the street car, an 
 old school boy friend who told me that he was soon 
 going to try his hand on the road selling bonds. 
 He asked me if I could give him any pointers. I 
 said: "Work and be square never come down on a 
 price; make the price right in the beginning." "Oh, 
 I don't know about that," said he. I slapped him 
 on the breast and answered: "I do!" 
 
 I would give every traveling man, every business 
 man, every man this same advice. Say what you 
 will, a square deal is the only thing to give your 
 customer. You can do a little scaly work and win 
 out at it for a while ; but when you get in the stretch, 
 unless you have played fair, the short horses will 
 beat you under the wire. 
 
 The best customer on my order book came to me 
 because I once had a chance to do a little crooked 
 work, but didn't. I had a customer who had been 
 a loyal one for many years. He would not even 
 look at another salesman's goods and you know 
 
 19 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 that it is a whole lot of satisfaction to get into a 
 town and walk into a door where you know you are 
 "solid." The man on the road who doesn't appre- 
 ciate and care for a faithful customer is not much 
 of a man, anyway. 
 
 My old customer, Logan, had a little trouble with 
 his main clerk. The clerk, Fred, got it into his head 
 that the business belonged to him, and he tried to 
 run it. But Logan wouldn't stand for this sort of 
 work and "called him down." The clerk became 
 "toppy" and Logan discharged him. 
 
 But, still, Fred had a fairly good standing in the 
 town and interested an old bachelor, a banker, who 
 had a nephew that he wanted to start in business. 
 He furnished Fred and his nephew with $10,000 
 cash capital; the three formed a partnership to open 
 a new store and "buck" Logan. Well, you know 
 it is not a bad thing to "stand in" with the head 
 clerk when you wish to do business in an establish- 
 ment. So I had always treated Fred right and he 
 liked me and had confidence in me. In fact, it's a 
 poor rule to fail to treat all well. I believe that the 
 "boys" on the road are the most tolerant, patient 
 human beings on earth. To succeed at their business 
 they must be patient and after a while it becomes a 
 habit and a good one, too. 
 
 You know how it goes! A merchant gets to 
 handling a certain brand of goods which is no better 
 than many others in the same line. He gets it into 
 
 20 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 his head that he cannot do without that particular 
 line. This is what enables a man on the road to get 
 an established trade. The clerks in the store also 
 get interested in some special brand because they 
 have customers who come in and ask for that par- 
 ticular thing a few times. They do not stop to think 
 that the man who comes in and asks for a Leopard 
 brand hat or a Knock-'em-out shoe does not have any 
 confidence in this special shoe or hat, but that he has 
 confidence in the establishment where he buys it. 
 
 So, when I was in Logan's town to sell him his 
 usual bill, his clerk hailed me from across the street 
 and came over to where I stood. He told me that 
 he had quit his old job and that he was going to put 
 in a new stock. I, of course, had to tell him that I 
 must stay with Logan, but that out of appreciation 
 of his past kindness to me I would do the best I 
 could to steer him right in my line of goods. I 
 gave him a personal letter to another firm that I had 
 been with before and who, I knew, would deal with 
 him fairly. 
 
 Fred went in to market. When in the city he 
 tried to buy some goods of my firm. He intended 
 to take these same goods and sell them for a lower 
 price than Logan had been getting, and thus cut 
 hard into Logan's trade. But the big manufactur- 
 ers, you know, are awake to all of those tricks and a 
 first-class establishment will always protect its cus- 
 tomers. My house told Fred that before they could 
 
 21 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 sell to him they would have to get my sanction. 
 They wired me about it, and I, of course, had to be 
 square with my faithful old friend, Logan; I placed 
 the matter before him. As I was near by, I wrote 
 him, by special delivery, and put the case before 
 him. He, for self-protection, wired my house that 
 he would prefer that they would not sell his old 
 clerk who was now going to become his competitor. 
 In fact, he said he would not stand for it. 
 
 The very next season things came around so that 
 Logan went out of business, and then I knew that I 
 was "up against it" in his town my old customer 
 gone out of business; Fred not wanting, then, of 
 course, to buy of me. But I took my medicine and 
 consoled myself with the thought that a few grains 
 of gold would pan out in the wash. 
 
 Up in a large town above Logan's I had a cus- 
 tomer named Dave, who had moved out from Colo- 
 rado. He was well fixed, but he had not secured the 
 right location. Say what you will, location has a 
 whole lot to do with business. Of course, a poor 
 man would not prosper in the busy streets of Cairo, 
 but the best sort of a hustler would starve to death 
 doing business on the Sahara. A big store in Dave's 
 new town failed. He had a chance to buy out the 
 stock at 75 cents on the dollar. He wished to do 
 so; but, although he was well-to-do, he didn't have 
 the ready cash. 
 
 One night I called on Dave and he laid the case 
 
 22 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 before me. He told me how sorry he was not to get 
 hold of this "snap." I put my wits together quickly 
 and I said to him: u Dave, I believe I can do you 
 some good." 
 
 The next morning I went to see a banker, who 
 was a brother-in-law of Logan's and who had made 
 enough money, merchandising and out of wheat, 
 down in Logan's old town, to move up to the city 
 and go into the banking business. The banker knew 
 all about the way that I had treated his brother-in- 
 law, and I felt that because I had been square with 
 Logan he would have confidence in anything I would 
 say to him. I laid the case before the banker. I 
 told him I knew Dave to be well fixed, to have good 
 credit, to be a good rustler and strictly straight. 
 
 In a little while I brought Dave to meet the 
 banker. The banker immediately, upon my recom- 
 mendation, told him that he could have all the 
 money he needed $16,000. The banker also wired 
 to the people who owned the stock he was well 
 acquainted with them and told them he would 
 vouch for Dave. 
 
 The deal went through all right and Dave now 
 buys every cent's worth, that he uses in my line, from 
 me. He is the best customer I have; I got him by 
 being square. 
 
 A great mistake which some salesmen make when 
 they first start on the road is to "load" their cus- 
 tomers. The experienced man will not do this, for 
 
 23 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he soon learns that he will u lose out" by it. A 
 merchant will not long continue to buy from a travel- 
 ing man in whom he has no confidence. He, in 
 great measure, depends on the judgment of the trav- 
 eling man as to the styles and quantities he should 
 buy. If the salesman sells him too much of anything 
 it is only a matter of time when the merchant will 
 buy from some other man. When a storekeeper 
 buys goods he invests money; and his heart is not 
 very far from his bank-book. 
 
 The time when the traveling man will ram all he 
 can into an order is when the merchant splits his 
 business in the salesman's line, buying the same kind 
 of goods from two or more houses. Then the sales- 
 man sells as much as he can, that he may crowd the 
 other man out. But even this is poor policy. 
 
 I once took on a new town. My predecessor had 
 been getting only a share of his customer's trade; 
 two others had divided the account with him. I 
 made up my mind to have all of the account or none. 
 The merchant went to my sample room and gave 
 me an order for a bill of hats. He bought at ran- 
 dom. When I asked him what sizes he wanted, he 
 said: "Oh, run 'em regular." "Very well," said I, 
 "but will it not be well to look through your stock 
 and see just what sizes you need? Maybe you have 
 quite a number of certain sizes on hand and it will 
 be needless for you to get more of them. Let's go 
 down to the store and look through your stock." 
 
 24 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 We went to his store. The first item on the order 
 he had given me was one dozen black "Columbias." 
 I found that he had five dozen already on hand. 
 u Look here," said I, "don't you think I would better 
 scratch that item off of the bill?" I drew my pencil 
 through the u one dozen Columbias." 
 
 u Now let us go through your whole stock and see 
 if there are not other items you have duplicated," I 
 suggested. We worked together for four hours 
 until after midnight. It was the biggest mess of a 
 stock I ever saw. When we got through I had cut 
 down my order three-fourths. 
 
 "See," said I, showing the merchant my order- 
 book and his stock list which every merchant 
 should have when he goes to buy goods "you have 
 enough of some kinds to last you three years. 
 Others, because they have gone out of style, are 
 worth nothing. All you can get out of them will be 
 clear profit; throw them out and sell them for any 
 price. 
 
 "Do you know what has been happening to you 
 right along? Three men and the one from my 
 firm is just as guilty as the rest have been loading 
 you. Why, if I were a judge and they were brought 
 before me, I'd sentence them to jail." 
 
 "And I guess I ought to be made to go along 
 with them," broke in my friend, "for participating 
 in the crime." 
 
 "That I will leave you to judge," said I, "but 
 
 25 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 there is one thing for sure : You will not see me back 
 here again for a year; it would be a crime for any- 
 one to take an order from you during that time. 
 And when I do come I want all of your business, 
 or none; you haven't enough for three, or even 
 for two. You can buy no more than you can sell to 
 your customers, unless you go broke some day. 
 Your interest and my interest are the same. In 
 truth, I stand on the same side of the counter as 
 you do. It is to my interest to treat you right. My 
 firm is merely the one from which you and I together 
 select your goods. Ought I not to see that they give 
 you the right things at the right prices? If I treat 
 you right, and my firm does not, you will follow me 
 to another; if I treat you wrong I'll lose both your 
 confidence and my joB." 
 
 That man today gives me all of his business; I 
 got him by being square. 
 
 By being over-conscientious, however, a salesman 
 sometimes will not let his customer buy enough. 
 This is frequently to the disadvantage of the 
 merchant. To sell goods a merchant must have 
 goods ; to have them he must buy them. The stingy 
 man has no business in business. Many a man be- 
 comes a merchant and, because he is either too close- 
 fisted or hasn't enough capital or credit with which 
 to buy goods, is awakened, some fine morning, by 
 the tapping on his front door of the Sheriff's ham- 
 mer. A man may think that if he goes into business 
 
 26 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 his friends will buy "any old thing, just be- 
 cause it's me"; but he will find out that when 
 he goes to separate his friends from their coin he 
 must give them the kind of goods they want. The 
 successful merchant is the man who carries the stock. 
 
 One of my old friends, who was a leading hat 
 salesman of St. Louis, once told me the following 
 experience : 
 
 "Several years ago I was out in western Texas on 
 a team trip. It was a flush year; cattle were high. 
 I had been having a good time; you know how it 
 goes the more one sells the more he wants to sell 
 and can sell. I heard of a big cattleman who was 
 also running a cross-roads grocery store. He wanted 
 to put in dry goods, shoes and hats. His store was 
 only a few miles out of my way so I thought that I 
 would drive over and see him. 
 
 "How I kicked myself when I drove up to his 
 shanty, hardly larger, it seemed to me, than my 
 straw-goods trunk! But, being there, I thought I 
 would pick up a small bill anyway. I make it a rule 
 never to overlook even a little order, for enough of 
 them amount to as much as one big one. When I 
 went in the old gentleman was tickled to see me and 
 told me to open up that he wanted a 'right smart' 
 bill. I thought that meant about $75. 
 
 "I had to leave my trunks outside the store 
 was so small so I brought in at first only a couple 
 of stacks of samples, thinking that they would be 
 
 27 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 enough. I pulled out a cheap hat and handed it 
 to him. 
 
 " 'That's a good one for the money,' said I, 'a 
 dollar apiece.' I used to always show cheap goods 
 first, but I have learned better. 
 
 "He looked at my sample in contempt and, pull- 
 ing a fine Stetson hat off his head, said: 'Haven't 
 you got some hats like this one?' 
 
 " 'Yes, but they will cost you $84 a dozen,' I 
 answered, at the same time handing him a fine 
 beaver quality Stetson. 
 
 " 'The more they cost the better they suit us cat- 
 tlemen ; we are not paupers, suh ! How many come 
 in a box?' 
 
 41 'Two. 1 
 
 " 'Two?' said he. 'You must be talking about a 
 pasteboard box; I mean a wooden box, a case.' 
 
 " 'Three dozen come in a case, Colonel.' 
 
 " 'Well, give me a case.' 
 
 "I had never sold a case of these fine goods in 
 my life, so I said to him: 'That's lots more, Colonel, 
 than I usually sell of that kind, and I don't want to 
 overload you; hadn't we better make it a dozen?' 
 
 " 'Dozen? Lor', no. You must think that there's 
 nobody in this country, that they haven't any money, 
 and that I haven't any money. Did you see that big 
 bunch of cattle as you came in? They're all mine 
 mine, suh; and I don't owe the bank a cent on 
 them, suh. No, suh, not a cent, suh. I want a case 
 
 28 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 of these hats, suh not a little bundle that you can 
 carry under yo' arm.' 
 
 "I was afraid that I had made the old gentleman 
 mad, and, knowing him by reputation to be worth 
 several thousand dollars, I thought it best to let 
 him have his way. I went through the two stacks 
 with him and then brought in the rest of my samples. 
 He bought a case of a kind right through fine 
 hats, medium hats and cheap hats for greasers; he 
 bought blacks, browns and light colors. I was 
 ashamed to figure up the bill before his face. But 
 just as soon as I got out of sight I added up the items 
 and it amounted to $2100 the best bill I took on 
 that trip. 
 
 "I sent the order in, but I thought that I would 
 not have to call there again for a long time. The 
 house shipped the bill, and the old gentleman dis- 
 counted it. 
 
 u Next trip I was intending to give that point the 
 go-by. I really felt that the old gentleman not only 
 needed no more goods, but that he would shoot me 
 if I called on him. But when I reached the town next 
 to his, my customer there, who was a friend of the 
 Colonel's, told me that the old gentleman had sent 
 him word that he wished to buy some more goods 
 and for me to be sure to come to see him. 
 
 "When I came driving up to the Colonel's store 
 the back end of it looked peculiar to me. He had 
 got so many goods from me that he had been obliged 
 
 29 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to take the wooden cases they were shipped in and 
 make out of these boxes an addition to his store. 
 Lumber was scarce in that country. The Colonel 
 came out and shook hands with me before I was out 
 of my wagon. I was never greeted more warmly in 
 my life. 
 
 " 'Look heah,' he began, 'I owe you an apology, 
 suh; and I want to make it to you befo' you pass 
 my threshol', suh. When you were heah befo' I 
 fear that I allowed my indignation to arise. I am 
 sorry of it, suh, sorry! Give me yo' hand and tell 
 me that you will pahdon me. I can't look you 
 square in the face until you do.' 
 
 " Why, Colonel, that's all right,' said I, <I didn't 
 want to abuse your confidence, but I fear that I my- 
 self was impertinent in trying to show you that I 
 knew more about your business than you did. I 
 want to beg your pardon.' 
 
 " 'No pahdon to grant, suh; and I want you to 
 accept my apology. The truth is the cowboys in 
 this country have been deviling me to death, nearly 
 - ever since I started this sto' to get them some 
 good hats good ones, suh. They told me that 
 they couldn't get a decent hat in this whole country. 
 I promised them that I would buy some of the best 
 I could find. When yo's came some of the boys 
 saw the wagon bound for my store, ten miles out of 
 town. They fo'med a sort of a procession, suh, and 
 marched in with the team. Every one of these boys 
 
 30 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 bought one of those finest hats you sold me. They 
 spread the news that I had a big stock and a fine 
 stock, all over this country; and, do you know, peo- 
 ple have come two hundred miles to buy hats of me? 
 Some of my friends laughed at me, they say, be- 
 cause I bought so many that I had to use the cases 
 they came in to make an addition to my sto'. But 
 the more they laughed, suh, the more necessary they 
 made the addition. If you can only get people to 
 talking about you, you will thrive. Believe me in 
 this, suh: If they say something good about you, 
 that is good; if they say something bad about you, 
 that is better it spreads faster. Those fool mer- 
 chants did not know, suh, that they were helping 
 my business every time that they told about how 
 many hats I had bought, until one day a fellow, 
 when they were laughing about me, said: "Well, if 
 that's the case I'll buy my hat from him; I like, 
 anyway, to patronize the man who carries a good 
 stock." Now you just come back and see how empty 
 my addition is.' 
 
 "I went back into my addition and found that the 
 Colonel's hats were nearly all gone. He had 
 actually sold and out of his little shanty more of 
 my goods than any other customer I had. When I 
 started to have my trunks unloaded the Colonel said 
 to me: 'Now just hoi' on there; that's entirely un- 
 necessary. The last ones sold so well, you just 
 duplicate my last bill, except that you leave out the 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 poah hats. Come, let's go up to my house and have 
 a julep and rest a while/ ' 
 
 Although a man's friends will not buy from him 
 if he does not carry the goods, he will yet get their 
 patronage over the other fellow if he has the right 
 stock. Here's where a man's personality and adap- 
 tability are his stock in trade when he is on the road ; 
 and the good salesman gets the business over his 
 competitor's head just by being able to turn the 
 mood of the merchant he meets. The more moods 
 he can turn, the larger his salary. 
 
 One of my musician road friends once told me 
 how he sold a bill to a well-known old crank, now 
 dead, in the state of Montana. 
 
 "When I used to work at the bench, years ago," 
 said he, as we sat in the smoker, "evenings when I 
 was free, for relaxation, I studied music. Our shop 
 boys organized a brass band. I played the trom- 
 bone, and learned to do so fairly well. I never 
 thought then that my music would fatten my pocket- 
 book; but since I have been on the road it has served 
 me a good turn more than once it has sold me 
 many a bill. 
 
 "You've head of the Wild Irishman of Chinook,' 
 haven't you?" 
 
 "Old Larry, the crank?" said I. 
 
 "Yes, old Larry, the great." 
 
 "Well, sir, the first evening I ever went into 
 Larry's store, I hadn't been in a minute until he said 
 
 32 
 
O 
 
 Q 
 
 Q 
 
 ft 
 
 
 
 Q 
 ft 
 
 a 
 
 5 
 
 55 
 
 s 
 
or 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to me: 'Oi'm all full up; OiVe got plinty of it, I 
 doon't give a dom pwhat ye're silling.' 
 
 "I paid no attention ta him, as I had heard of 
 him; instead of going out I bought a cigar and sat 
 down by the stove. Although a man may not wish 
 to bury anything from you, you know, he is always 
 willing to sell you something, even if it is only a 
 cigar. I've caught many a merchant's ear by buying 
 something of him. My specialty is bone collar 
 buttons they come cheap. I'll bet that I bought a 
 peck of them the first time I made a trip through 
 this country. 
 
 "I had not been sitting by the stove long until I 
 noticed, in a show case, a trombone. I asked Larry 
 to please let me see it. 'Oi'll lit ye say the insthru- 
 mint,' said he, 'but pwhat's the good of it? Ye can't 
 play the thromboon, can ye ? Oi'm the only mon in 
 this berg that can bloo that hairn. Oi'm a mimber 
 of the bhrass band.' 
 
 "I took the horn and, as I ran the scale a few times, 
 Larry's eyes began to dance. He wouldn't wait on 
 the customer who came in. The instrument was a 
 good one. I made Tratties and fishes are very foine 
 dishes for Saint Pathrick in the mairnin' ' fairly ring. 
 A big crowd came in. Larry let business drop en- 
 tirely and danced a jig. He kept me playing for an 
 hour, always something 'by special rayquist' 'Molly 
 Dairlint,' 'Moggie Moorphy's Hoom' and every- 
 
 33 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 thing he could think of. Finally he asked me for 
 'Hairts Booed Doon.' 
 
 u As I played The Heart Bowed Down,' tears 
 came to the old Irishman's eyes. When I saw these, 
 I played yet better; this piece was one of my own 
 favorites. I felt a little peculiar myself. This air 
 had made a bond between us. When I finished, the 
 old man said to me : 'Thank ye, thank ye, sor, with 
 all my hairt! That's enoof. Let me put the hairn 
 away. Go hoom now. But coom aroond in the 
 mairnin' and Oi'll boy a bill of ye ; Oi doon't give a 
 dom pwhat ye're silling. If Oi've got your loine in 
 my sthore Oi'll boy a bill; if I haven't, Oi'll boy a 
 bill innyway and stairt a new depairtmint. Good 
 noight, give me yer hand, sor.' 
 
 "Not only did Larry give me a good order, but 
 he went to two more merchants in the town and made 
 them buy from me. He bought every dollar's worth 
 of his goods in my line from me as long as he lived." 
 
 34 
 
M 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CLERKS, CRANKS AND TOUCHES. 
 
 ANY a bill of goods is sold on the road 
 through the influence of the clerk. The 
 traveling man who overlooks this point 
 overlooks a strong one. The clerk is the one who 
 gets next to the goods. He checks them off when 
 they come in, keeps the dust off of them every day, 
 sells them to the people and often he does the select- 
 ing of the goods in the first place. A merchant usu- 
 ally buys what pleases the clerks in order to get them 
 interested. In this way he puts a sort of responsibil- 
 ity upon them. If the business man neglects his 
 clerks, they neglect his business; if the traveling man 
 ignores the clerks, they ignore the traveling man. 
 
 But in this matter the salesman must go just so 
 far and no farther, for the moment that the merchant 
 begins to think the traveling man is influencing the 
 clerks unduly, down comes the hatchet ! A hat man 
 once, as we rode together on the train, told me this 
 incident : 
 
 "I once sold a small bill of hats to a large mer- 
 chant down in California," said he. "The next sea- 
 son when I came around I saw that my goods were 
 
 35 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 on the floor-shelf. I didn't like this. If you want 
 to get your goods sold, get them where they are 
 easy to reach. Clerks, and merchants too, usually 
 follow the line of least resistance; they sell that which 
 they come to first. If a man asks me where he ought 
 to put his case for hats to make them move, I tell 
 him, 'up front.' 
 
 "From the base shelf I dug up a box of my goods, 
 knocked the dust off the lid, took out a hat, began 
 to crease it. One of the clerks came up. He was 
 very friendly. They usually are. They like to brush 
 up against the traveling man, for it is the ambition 
 of nineteen clerks out of every twenty to get on the 
 road. 
 
 "My young friend, seeing the hat in my hand, 
 said, 'Gee, that's a beaut. I didn't know we had a 
 swell thing like that in the house. I wish I'd got 
 one like that instead of this old bonnet.' 
 
 "With this he showed me a new stiff hat. I 
 scarcely glanced at it before I cracked the crown 
 out of it over my heel, handed him the hat I had 
 taken, out of the box, threw three dollars on the 
 counter and said, 'Well, we'll swap. Take this one.' 
 ' 'Guess I will, all right, all right !' he exclaimed. 
 
 "Another one of the boys who saw this incident 
 came up with his old hat and asked, laughing, 
 *Maybe you want to swap with me?' 
 
 "Crack went another hat; down I threw another 
 three dollars. Before I got through, eight clerks 
 
 36 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 had new hats, and I had thrown away twenty-four 
 dollars. 
 
 "Thrown away? No, sir. I'll give that much, 
 every day of the week, to get the attention of a 
 large dealer. Twenty-four dollars are made in a 
 minute and a half by a traveling man when he gets 
 to doing business with a first-class merchant. 
 
 "The proprietor, Hobson, was not then in. When 
 I dropped in that afternoon, I asked him if he would 
 see my samples. 
 
 u 'No, sir, I will not,' he spoke up quickly. 'To 
 be plain with you, I do not like the way in which you 
 are trying to influence my clerks.' 
 
 "There was the critical the 'psychological' 
 moment. Weakness would have put an end to me. 
 But this was the moment I wanted. In fact, I have 
 at times deliberately made men mad just to get their 
 attention. 
 
 " 'Hobson,' I flashed back, 'You can do just as 
 you please about looking at my goods. But I'll tell 
 you one thing : I have no apology to offer in regard 
 to your clerks. You bought my goods and buried 
 them. I know they are good, and I want you to 
 find it out. I have put them on the heads of your 
 men because I am not ashamed to have them wear 
 them before your face. You can now see how styl- 
 ish they are. In six months you will learn how well 
 they \vear. I would feel like a sneak had I stealthily 
 slipped a twenty dollar gold piece into the hand of 
 
 37 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 your hat man and told him to push my goods. But 
 I haven't done this. In fact I gave a hat to nearly 
 every clerk you have except your hat man. He was 
 away. Even your delivery boy has one. You owe 
 me an apology, sir; and I demand it, and demand 
 it right now 1 I've always treated you as a gentle- 
 man, sir; and you shall treat me as such.' Then, 
 softening down, I continued: 'I can readily see how, 
 at first glance, you were offended at me; but just 
 think a minute, and I believe you'll tell me you were 
 hasty.' 
 
 " 'Yes, I was,' he answered quietly. 'Got your stuff 
 open? I'll go right down with you.' After Hobson 
 had, in a few minutes, given me a nice order, he 
 said to me : 'Well, do you know, I like your pluck.' 
 
 "It sometimes happens that a traveling man meets 
 with a surly clerk, a conceited clerk, or a bribed clerk 
 who has become buyer," continued my friend. u Then 
 the thing to do is to go straight to the head of the 
 establishment. The man I like to do business with 
 is the man whose money pays for my goods. He is 
 not pulled out of line by guy ropes. It is well to 
 stand in with the clerks, but it is better to be on the 
 right side of the boss. When it gets down to driving 
 nails, he is the one to hammer on the hardest. 
 
 "I once took on the territory of a man who had 
 quit the road. About this same time one of his best 
 customers had, to some extent, retired from business 
 activity and put on a new buyer in my department. 
 
 38 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Now, this is a risky thing, you know, for a merchant 
 to do unless the buyer gets an interest in the business 
 and becomes, in truth, a merchant himself. It usu- 
 ally means the promotion of a clerk who gets a 
 swelled head. The new buyer generally feels that 
 he must do something to show his ability and one 
 of the ways he does this is by switching lines. 
 
 "During the illness of my predecessor, who soon 
 after quit the road, another man made for him a 
 part of his old trip. In one of the towns he made 
 he struck the new buyer and, of course, got turned 
 down. Had I been there, I would have received the 
 same sort of treatment. 
 
 u My immediate predecessor, who was turned 
 down, posted me; so when I went to the town, I 
 knew just what to do go direct to the proprietor. 
 I knew that my goods were right; all I needed was 
 unprejudiced attention. Prejudice anyway buys most 
 of the goods sold; merit is a minor partner. Were 
 merchandise sold strictly on merit, two-thirds of the 
 wholesale houses and factories would soon lock up; 
 and the other third would triple their business. 
 
 "When I entered the store, I went straight to the 
 proprietor and told him without introducing myself 
 (a merchant does not care what your name is) what 
 my line of business was. It was Saturday afternoon. 
 I would rather go out making business on Satur- 
 day than any other day because the merchant is doing 
 business and is in a good humor, and you can get 
 
 39 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 right at the point. Of course, you must catch him 
 when he is not, for the moment, busy. 
 
 " 'Can't do anything for you, sir, I fear,' said he. 
 'Hereafter we are going to buy that line direct from 
 the factories.' 
 
 "I saw that the proprietor himself was prejudiced, 
 and that the one thing to do was to come straight 
 back at him. 'Where do you suppose my hats come 
 from?' said I. 'My factory is the leading one in 
 New Jersey.' I was from Chicago although my 
 goods, in truth, were made in Orange Valley. 
 
 " 'Will you be here Monday?' he asked. This 
 meant that he wanted to look at my samples. The 
 iron was hot; then was the time to strike. 
 
 " 'Sorry, but I cannot,' I answered. 'But I'll tell 
 you what I'll do. My line is a specialty line only 
 fine goods and I'll bring in a small bunch of sam- 
 ples tonight about the time you close up.' Mer- 
 chants like to deal with a man who is strictly busi- 
 ness when they both get to doing business. Then is 
 the time to put friendship and joking on the shelf. 
 
 "That night at ten o'clock I was back at the store 
 with a bundle under my arm. The man who is too 
 proud to carry a bundle once in a while would better 
 never start on the road. The proprietor whispered 
 to the hat buyer I overheard the words 'Large 
 Eastern factory' and together they began to look 
 at my samples. The new buyer went to the shelves 
 and got out some of the goods which had come from 
 
 40 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 my house to compare with my samples, which were 
 just the same quality. But, after fingering both, he 
 said right out to the proprietor: There's no com- 
 parison. I've told you all along that the factory was 
 the place to buy.' 
 
 U I booked my order it was a fat one, too solid 
 case lots. 
 
 " 'Shall I ship these from Orange Valley or Chi- 
 cago?' I asked. 
 
 " 'Why do you ask that?' asked the proprietor. 
 
 " 'Because you have bought a bill from a firm you 
 have dealt with for twenty years, Blank and Com- 
 pany of Chicago, that I represent, and I do not want 
 one who has favored me to pay any extra freight. 
 You will pardon me, I'm sure, for not telling you 
 the whole truth until now ; but this was the only way 
 in which I could overcome your prejudice.' ' 
 
 "That's one on me," said the merchant. "Come 
 boys, you are in on this too I'll buy the smokes." 
 
 Many traveling men make mistakes by steering 
 shy of cranks. The so-called crank is the easiest 
 man to approach, if only you go at him right. 
 
 Once I sat at dinner with two other traveling men 
 who were strangers to me as strange as one travel- 
 ing man ever is to another. This is not, however, 
 very "strange," for the cosmopolitan life of the road 
 breeds a good fellowship and a sort of secret society 
 fraternity among all knights of the grip. My ter- 
 ritory being new, I made inquiry regarding the mer- 
 
 41 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 chants of a certain town to which I intended to go. 
 
 " Don't go there/' spoke up one of my table com- 
 panions. "There's no one there who's any good 
 except old man Duke and he's the biggest crank 
 on earth. He discounts his bills, but Lord, it's 
 a job to get near him." 
 
 Some men on the road are vulgar; but will not this 
 comment apply to some few of any class of men? 
 
 "My friend," said companion number two, look- 
 ing straight at the man who had just made the above 
 remarks, "I've been on the road these many years 
 and, if my observation counts for anything, those we 
 meet are, to a great extent, but reflections of our- 
 selves. True, many call Mr. Duke peculiar, but I 
 have always got along with him without any trouble. 
 I consider him a gentleman." 
 
 I went to the "old crank's" town. As I rode on 
 the train, louder than the clacking of the car wheels, 
 I heard myself saying over and over again: "Those 
 we meet are, to a great extent, but reflections of our- 
 selves." 
 
 When I went into the old gentleman's store, he 
 was up front in his office at work on his books. I 
 merely said, "Good morning, sir," and went back 
 and sat down by the stove. It's never a good thing 
 to interrupt a merchant when he's busy. He, and he 
 alone, knows what is most important for him to do. 
 Maybe he has an urgent bill or sight draft to meet; 
 maybe he has a rush order to get off in the next mail ; 
 
 42 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 maybe he is figuring up his profit or his loss on some 
 transaction. Then is not the time to state your busi- 
 ness if you wish to make your point. The traveling 
 man must not forget that the merchant's store is a 
 place of business; that he is on the lookout for good 
 things and just as anxious to buy good goods ad- 
 vantageously as the salesman is to sell them; and 
 that he will generally lend an ear, for a moment at 
 least, if properly approached to any business prop- 
 osition. 
 
 After a while, the old gentleman came back to 
 the stove and, as he approached, politely said to me, 
 "Is there something I can do for you, suh?" 
 
 I caught his southern accent and in a moment was 
 on my guard. I arose and, taking off my hat for 
 he was an old gentleman replied: "That remains 
 with you, sir," and I briefly stated my business, say- 
 ing finally, "As this is my first time in your town 
 and as my house is perhaps new to you, possibly, if 
 you can find the time to do so, you may wish to see 
 what I have." Recalling that one of my table com- 
 panions had said he considered him a gentleman I 
 was especially careful to be polite to the merchant. 
 And politeness is a jewel that every traveling man 
 should wear in his cravat. 
 
 "I shall see you at one thirty, suh. Will you ex- 
 cuse me now?" With this the old gentleman re- 
 turned to his office. I immediately left the store. 
 The important thing to get a merchant to do is to 
 
 43 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 consent to look at your goods. When you can get 
 him to do this, keep out of his way until he is ready 
 to fulfil his engagement. Then, when you have 
 done your business, pack your goods and leave town. 
 What the merchant wants chiefly with the traveling 
 man is to do business with him. True, much visit- 
 ing and many odd turns are sometimes necessary to 
 get the merchant to the point of "looking," but 
 when you get him there, leave him until he is ready 
 to "look." Friendships, for sure, will develop, but 
 don't force them. 
 
 At one twenty-nine that afternoon I started for the 
 "old crank's" store. It was just across the street 
 from my sample room. I met him in the middle of 
 the street. He was a crank about keeping his en- 
 gagements promptly. I respect a man who does this. 
 The old gentleman looked carefully, but not tedi- 
 ously, at my goods, never questioning a price. In a 
 little while, he said: "I shall do some business with 
 you, suh; your goods suit me." 
 
 I never sold an easier bill in my life and never 
 met a more pleasant gentleman. Our business fin- 
 ished, he offered me a cigar and asked that he might 
 sit and smoke while I packed my samples. Yes, of- 
 fered me a cigar. And I took it. It was lots bet- 
 ter than offering him one. He enjoyed giving me 
 one more than he would have enjoyed smoking one 
 of mine. In fact, it flatters any man more to accept 
 a favor from him than to do one for him. Many 
 
 44 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 traveling men spend two dollars a day on cigars 
 which they give away. They are not only throwing 
 away money but also customers sometimes. The 
 way for the salesman on the road to handle the man 
 he wants to sell goods to in order to get his regard 
 is to treat him as he does the man of whom he expects 
 no favors. When you give a thing to a man he gen- 
 erally asks in his own mind, "What for?" 
 
 Before I left the town of the "old crank" I met 
 with another of his peculiarities. I was out of money. 
 I asked him if he would cash a sight draft for me 
 on my firm for a hundred dollars. 
 
 "No, suh," said he. "I will not. I was once 
 swindled that way and I now make it a rule never 
 to do that." 
 
 Needles stuck in me all over. 
 
 "But," continued the old gentleman, "I shall 
 gladly lend you a hundred dollars or any amount you 
 wish." 
 
 For the many years I went to the town of the "old 
 crank," our relationship was most cordial. I believe 
 we became friends. More than once did he drop 
 business and go out fishing with me. Since the first 
 day we met I have often recalled the words of my 
 table companion: "Those we meet are, to a great 
 extent, but reflections of ourselves." 
 
 Recalling the predicament I was in for a moment 
 in the town of the "old crank," reminds me of an 
 experience I once had. As a rule, I haven't much 
 
 45 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 use for the man on the road who borrows money. If 
 he hasn't a good enough stand-in with his firm to 
 draw on the house or else to have the firm keep him 
 a hundred or two ahead in checks, put him down as 
 no good. The man who is habitually broke on the 
 road is generally the man who thinks he has the "gen- 
 tle finger/' and that he can play in better luck than 
 the fellow who rolls the little ivory ball around a 
 roulette wheel. There are not many of this kind, 
 though; they don't last long. It's mostly the new 
 man or the son of the boss who thinks he can pay 
 room rent for tin horns. 
 
 Even the best of us, though, get shy at least once 
 in a life time, and have to call on some one for chips. 
 I've done this a few times myself. I never refused 
 one of the boys on the road a favor in all my life. 
 Many a time I've dug up a bill and helped out some 
 chap who was broke and I knew, at the time, that 
 as far as getting back the money went, I might just 
 as well chuck it in the sewer. Few of the boys will 
 borrow, but all of them are ever ready to lend. 
 
 The one time I borrowed was in Spokane. When 
 I went down to the depot I learned that I could buy 
 a baggage prepaid permit and save about fifty dollars. 
 I did not know until I reached the station that I 
 could do this in Spokane. Down east they haven't 
 got on well to this system. You can prepay your 
 excess baggage all the way from a coast point clear 
 back to Chicago and have the right to drop your 
 
 46 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 trunks off anywhere you will along the route. This 
 makes a great saving. Well, when I went to check 
 in I saw that I was short about four dollars. I did 
 not have time to run back to my customer's up town 
 or to the hotel and cash a draft. I looked to see if 
 there was somebody around that I knew. Not a fa- 
 miliar face. I had to do one of three things: Lose 
 a day, give up by slow degrees over fifty dollars 
 to the Railroad Company, or strike somebody for 
 four. 
 
 Right here next to me at the baggage counter stood 
 a tall, good natured fellow I shall always remem- 
 ber his sandy whiskers and pair of generous blue 
 eyes. He was checking his baggage to Walla Walla. 
 
 "Going right through to Walla Walla ?" said I. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "can I do anything for you?" 
 
 "Well, since you have mentioned it, you can," I 
 answered. 
 
 I introduced myself, told my new friend Mason 
 was his name, Billie Mason how I was fixed and 
 that I would give him a note to my customer, Mc- 
 Pherson, at Walla Walla, requesting him to pay back 
 the money. 
 
 I gave Mason the order, written with a lead pencil 
 on the back of an envelope, and he gave me the 
 four dollars. 
 
 I got down to Walla Walla in a few days. When 
 I went in to see McPherson the first thing I said to 
 
 47 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 him, handing him four dollars, was: "Mac, I want 
 to pay you back that four." 
 
 "What four?" said McPherson. 
 
 "What four?" said I. "Your memory must be 
 short. Why, that four I gave a traveling man, 
 named Mason, an order on you for!" 
 
 McPherson looked blank; but we happened to be 
 standing near the cashier's desk, and the matter was 
 soon cleared up. 
 
 The cashier, who was a new man in the store, 
 spoke up and said: "Yes, last week a fellow was in 
 here with an order on you for four dollars, but 
 it was written with a lead pencil on the back of an 
 envelope. I thought it was no good. I didn't want 
 to be out the four, so I refused to pay it." 
 
 "The deuce you did," said my friend Mac, "Why, 
 I've known this man (referring to me) and bought 
 goods of him for ten years." 
 
 The thing happened this way: On the very day 
 that Mason presented my order both McPherson 
 himself and the clerk in my department were out of 
 town. When the new cashier told Mason that he 
 did not know me, Mason simply thought he was 
 "done" for four, and walked out thanking himself 
 that the amount was not more. 
 
 But it so happened that Mason himself that night 
 told this joke on himself to a friend of mine. 
 
 My friend laughed "fit to kill" and finally said 
 to Mason: "Why that fellow's good for four hun- 
 
 48 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 dred;" and he gave Mason what I had failed to give 
 him my address. 
 
 I had also failed to take Mason's address. After 
 he made me the loan in Spokane we sat on the train 
 together chatting. I became well acquainted with 
 him, and with a friend of his named Dickey, who 
 was along with us. Yet I did not ask Mason his 
 business, even; for, as you know, it's only the fresh, 
 new man who wants to know what every man he 
 meets is selling. 
 
 After McPherson's new cashier had told me that 
 he had not paid my order, I inquired of every man 
 I met about Mason, but could get no clew on him. 
 He was in a specialty jewelry business and made 
 only a few large towns in my territory. Every time 
 I boarded a train I would look all through it for 
 those sandy whiskers. It was lucky that he wore 
 that color; it made the search easy. I even looked 
 for him after midnight not only going through the 
 day coaches, but asking the Pullman porters if such 
 a man was aboard. I woke up more than one red- 
 whiskered man out of his slumbers and asked him: 
 "Is your name Mason?" One of them wanted to 
 lick me for bothering him, but he laughed so loudly 
 when, in apologizing, I told him the reason for my 
 search that he woke up the whole car. I never 
 found him this way, and not having his address, 1 
 could only wait. 
 
 I had just about given up all hopes of getting a 
 
 49 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 line on my confiding friend when, several weeks after 
 a letter bearing the pen marks of many forwardings, 
 caught me. I've got that letter; it reads this way: 
 
 "Walla Walla, Dec. 6th. 
 "My Dear Sir: 
 
 "I called on Mr. McPherson today and unfor- 
 tunately found him out of the city. None of his 
 clerks seemed to know you when I presented your 
 request for an advance. They all began to look 
 askance at me as if I were a suspicious character. 
 I ought to have put on my white necktie and clerical 
 look before going in, but unluckily I wore only my 
 common, everyday, drummer appearance. 
 
 "I got your address from a fellow wayfarer here 
 just minute ago. My train goes soon. I am 
 writing you care of your house as I'm a little leery 
 of sending it care of your friend McPherson. 
 
 "Your order for the four now reposes in the inside 
 pocket of my vest amongst my firm's cash and will 
 stand as an I. O. U. against me until I hear from 
 you. Even as I write, my friend Dickey, who sits 
 at my left, keeps singing into my ear: 
 
 " 'If I should die tonight and you should come to 
 my cold corpse and say: 
 
 "Here, Bill, I've brought you back that four," 
 
 " * "I'd rise up in my white cravat and say: 
 "What's that?" And then fall dead once more.' 
 "Beseechingly yours, 
 
 "W. L. Mason, 
 "Denver, Box ." 
 
 Although I sent Mason a check, it seemed that I 
 was ever doomed to be in error with him. I wrote 
 
 50 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 him insisting that he wear a new hat on me and 
 asked him to send me his size. 
 
 He wrote back that he was satisfied to get the 
 four dollars ; but, since I pressed the matter, his size 
 was seven and one-fourth. 
 
 I wrote my hatter to express a clear beaver to 
 Mason. But somehow he got the size wrong, for 
 Mason wrote back : 
 
 "Dear Brother: Everything that I have to do with 
 you seems at first all wrong, but finally wiggles out 
 all right. For example, while I stated that my size 
 was seven and one-fourth your hatter sent a seven 
 and one-half two sizes too big under ordinary cir- 
 cumstances. But I was so tickled to get the unex- 
 pected four and a new lid besides that my head 
 swelled and my bonnet fit me to a T." 
 
s 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 SOCIAL ARTS AS SALESMEN^ ASSETS. 
 
 ALESMANSHIP has already been defined as 
 the art of overcoming obstacles, of turning 
 defeat into victory by the use of tact and pa- 
 tience. Courtesy must become constitutional with 
 the drummer and diplomacy must become second na- 
 ture to him. All this may have a very commercial 
 and politic ring, but its logic is beyond question. It 
 would be a decided mistake, however, to conclude 
 that the business life of the skilful salesman is ruled 
 only by selfish, sordid or politic motives. 
 
 In the early nineties, I was going through Western 
 Kansas; it was the year of the drought and the 
 panic. Just as the conductor called "All aboard" 
 at a little station where we had stopped for water, 
 up drove one of the boys. His pair of bronchos 
 fairly dripped with sweat; their sides heaved like 
 bellows they had just come in from a long, hard 
 drive. As the train started the commercial tourist 
 slung his grips before him and jumped on. He shook 
 a cloud of dust out of his linen coat, brushed dust 
 off his shoes, fingered dust out of his hair, and 
 washed dust off his face. He was the most dust- 
 
 52 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 begrimed mortal I ever saw. His ablutions made, he 
 sat down in a double seat with me and offered me a 
 cigar. 
 
 "Close call," said I. 
 
 "Yes, you bet sixteen miles in an hour and thirty- 
 five minutes. That was the last time I'll ever make 
 that drive." 
 
 "Customer quit you?" 
 
 "He hasn't exaotly quit me, he has quit his town. 
 All there ever has been in his town was a post office 
 and a store, all in one building; and he lived in the 
 back end of that. It has never paid me to go to 
 see him, but he was one of those loyal customers who 
 gave me all he could and gave it without kicking. 
 He gave me the glad hand and that, you know, 
 goes a long ways and for six years I've been going 
 to see him twice a year, more to accommodate him 
 than for profit. The boys all do lots of this work 
 more than merchants give them credit for. His wife 
 was a fine little woman. Whenever my advance card 
 came she attended to the post office she would 
 always put a couple of chickens in a separate coop 
 and fatten them on breakfast food until I arrived. 
 Her dinner was worth driving sixteen miles for if 
 I didn't sell a sou. 
 
 "But it is all off now. The man was always having 
 a streak of hard luck grasshoppers, hail, hot winds, 
 election year or something, and he has finally pulled 
 stakes. When I reached there this time it was the 
 
 53 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 lonesomest place I ever saw, no more store and post 
 office, no more nice little wife and fried chicken 
 not even a dog or hitching post. My friend had 
 gone away and left no reminder of himself save a 
 notice he had lettered with a marking brush on his 
 front door. Just as a sort of a keepsake in memory 
 of my old friend I took a copy. Here it goes : 
 
 u 'A thousand feet to water ! 
 A thousand miles to wood I 
 I've quit this blasted country 
 Quit her! Yes, for good. 
 The 'hoppers came abuzzin' 
 But I shooed them all away, 
 Next blew the hot winds furious; 
 Still, I had the grit to stay. 
 There's always something hap'ning; 
 So, while I've got the pluck 
 Think I'll strike another country 
 And see how runs my luck. 
 God bless you, boys, I love you. 
 The drummer is my friend. 
 When I open up my doors again, 
 Bet your life, for you I'll send.' 
 
 "Wouldn't that cork you? Say, let's get up a 
 game of whist." With this my friend took a fresh 
 cigar from me, and, whistling, sauntered down the 
 aisle hunting partners for the game. The long drive, 
 the dust and the loss of a bill no longer disturbed 
 him. 
 
 The man who grieves would better stay off the 
 
 54 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 road. The traveling man must digest disappoint- 
 ments as he does a plate- of blue points, for he swal- 
 lows them about as often. One of the severest dis- 
 appointments for a road man is to have the pins for 
 a bill all set and th^n have some other man get the 
 ball first and knock them down. 
 
 A clothing salesman told me this story : 
 
 "I have been chasing trunks for a long time but 
 last season I got into the worst scrape of all my 
 life on the road. I was a little pushed for time, so 
 I wrote one of my irregular country customers that 
 I would not be able to go to his town, but that I 
 would pay his expenses if he would come in and meet 
 me at Spokane. 
 
 "When he showed up he brought along his wife; 
 and his wife rolled a young baby into my sample 
 room. It was a pretty little kid, and struck me as 
 being the best natured little chap I had ever seen. 
 Of course, you know that to jolly up my customer a 
 little I had to get on the good side of the wife, 
 and the best way to do this was to play with the 
 baby. After I had danced the little fellow around 
 for a while I put him back into the buggy and sup- 
 posed that I was going to get down to business. But 
 the father said he thought he would be in town for 
 a week or so and that he thought he would go out 
 and find a boarding house. 
 
 u As we were talking, a friend of mine dropped 
 in. He directed my customer to a boarding house, 
 
 55 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 and then, just for fun, said: 'Why don't you leave 
 the baby here with us while you're making arrange- 
 ments. Mr. Percy has lots of children at hcme, 
 and he knows how to take care of them all right.' 
 Imagine how I felt when my country friends fell in 
 with the shoe man's suggestion ! 
 
 "Both of us got along first rate with the baby 
 for a while. I really enjoyed it until my friend left 
 me to go down the street, and a customer I was 
 expecting came in. I thought the baby would get 
 along all right by himself, and so I started to show 
 customer No. 2 my line of goods. But the little chap 
 had been spoiled by too much of my coddling and 
 wouldn't stand for being left alone. At first he gave 
 a little whimper. I rolled him for a minute or two 
 with one hand and ran the other over a line of chev- 
 iots and told my customer how good they were; but 
 the very minute I let go of the buggy, out broke the 
 kid again. I repeated this performance two or three 
 times, but whenever I let go the buggy handle the 
 baby yelled. In a few minutes he was going it good 
 and strong, and I had to take him out and bounce 
 him up and down. Now, you can imagine just how 
 hard it is to pacify a baby and sell a bill of clothing. 
 Try it if you don't. I soon began to walk the floor 
 to keep the kid from howling, and presently I decided 
 I would rather keep that child quiet than sell a bill 
 of goods. Finally, customer number two went out, 
 
 56 
 

 
 
 ' WHENEVER I LET GO THE BUGGY HANDLE THE 
 BABY YELLED." 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 saying he would see me the next morning ; and there 
 I was left all alone with the baby again. 
 
 "I tried to ring a bell and get a chambermaid to 
 take care of him, but the bell was broken. Then I 
 began to sing all the songs I knew and kept it up 
 until I nearly wore out my throat. It seemed as if 
 the baby's mother never would come back, but I had 
 the happy satisfaction of knowing, though, that the 
 baby's mother and father would certainly have to 
 come back and get the little fellow, and I felt sure of 
 getting a good bill of goods. 
 
 "Well, what do you think happened? After two 
 hours the mother came back and got the baby and 
 I never saw her husband again ! A competitor of 
 mine had 'swiped' him as he came in the hotel office 
 and sold him his bill of goods." 
 
 Although my friend Percy who rolled the baby 
 carriage back and forth lost out by this operation, 
 I would advise my friends on the road to roll every 
 baby buggy belonging to a possible customer that 
 they have a chance to get their hands on. When 
 the merchant gives the traveling man an opportunity 
 to do him some sort of a favor outside of straight 
 business dealing, he then gives the drummer the best 
 possible chance to place him under obligations which 
 will surely be repaid sometime. But don't go too far. 
 
 Down in Texas in one of the larger towns, just 
 after the Kishinef horror, the Hebrew clothing mer- 
 chants held a charity ball. If you were to eliminate 
 
 57 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the Hebrew from the clothing business the ranks of 
 dealers in men's wearing apparel would be devas- 
 tated. One of my friends in the clothing business 
 told me how he and a furnishing goods friend of his 
 made hay at that charity ball: 
 
 "The day that I struck town, one of my customers 
 said to me, 'We want you to go to the show tomorrow 
 night and open the ball with a few remarks. Will 
 you?' 
 
 "Just for fun I said, 'To be sure I will, Ike.' I 
 did not think I would be taken in earnest, but the 
 next day I received a program, and right at the head 
 of it was my name down for the opening speech. 
 Well, I was up against it and I had to make good. 
 You may take my word for it that I felt a little 
 nervous that night when I came to the big hall and 
 saw it full of people waiting for the opening address. 
 I needed to have both sand on the bottoms of my 
 shoes and sand in my upper story to keep from slip- 
 ping down on the waxed floor ! But, as I was in for it, 
 I marched bravely up and sat down for a few min- 
 utes in the big chair. 
 
 "Then the first thing I knew I was introduced. 
 Now I was really in sympathy with the purpose of 
 this gathering and I felt, sincerely, the atrocity of 
 the Kishineff massacre. Consequently, I was able to 
 speak from the heart in telling my audience how 
 every human being, without regard to race, was 
 touched by such an outrage. Had I been running 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 for Congress there, I would have received every vote 
 in the house. The women sent special requests by 
 their husbands, asking the honor of a dance with me. 
 
 "Remember that the traveling man must not over- 
 look the wife of his customer. Generally a man's 
 nearest and truest friend is his wife. The business 
 man feels that she is his best counselor. If you can* 
 get the good will of the 'women folks' of your cus- 
 tomer's household you may be sure you will be solid 
 with him for keeps. 
 
 "But I must not overlook my furnishing goods 
 friend. He had been trained for an opera singer 
 and would have made a success of it had he kept up 
 with that profession. His business, however, pros- 
 pered so well that he could never go and look the 
 prompter in the face. He had a rich, full, deep 
 voice which, when he sang the Holy City, made the 
 chandeliers fairly hum. There is something in the 
 melodious human voice, anyway, that goes away 
 down deep into the heart. My friend won every- 
 body there with a song. He with his music and 
 I with my speech had done a courtesy to those mer- 
 chants which they and their wives appreciated. You 
 know you can feel it, somehow, when you are in 
 true accord with those you meet. 
 
 "We really did not think anything about the busi- 
 ness side that night. I forgot it altogether until, 
 upon leaving the hall, my friend Ike said to me: 
 'Tonight we dance, tomorrow we sell closing again.' 
 
 59 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Both of us did a good business in that town on the 
 strength of the charity ball, and we have held our 
 friends there as solid customers. I say 'solid cus- 
 tomers' but actually there is no such thing as a 'solid 
 customer.' The very best friend you have will slip 
 away from you sometime, break out your corral, and 
 you must mount your broncho, chase him down and 
 rope him in again. 
 
 A mighty true saying, that! It is a great dis- 
 appointment to call upon a customer with whom you 
 have been doing business for a long time and find 
 that he has already bought. Ofttimes this happens, 
 however, because when you become intimate with a 
 merchant you fail to continue to impress upon him 
 the merits of your merchandise. However tight a 
 rope the salesman feels that he has upon a mer- 
 chant, he should never cease to let him know and 
 make him feel that the goods he is selling are strictly 
 right; for if he lets the line slacken a little the mer- 
 chant may take a run and snap it in two. 
 
 One of my hat friends once told me how he went 
 in to see an old customer named Williams, down in 
 Texas, and found that he had bought a bill. 
 
 "When I reached home," said he, "I handed my 
 checks to a porter, slipped half a dollar into his hand 
 and told him to rush my trunks right up to the 
 sample room." 
 
 This is a thing that a salesman should do on gen- 
 eral principles. When he has spent several dollars 
 
 60 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 and many hours to get to a town he should bear in 
 mind that he is there for business, and that he can- 
 not do business well unless he has his goods in a 
 sample room. The man who goes out to work trade 
 with his trunks at the depot does so with only half 
 a heart. If a man persuades himself that there is no* 
 business in a town for him he would better pass it 
 up. When he gets to a town the first thing he 
 should do is to get out samples. 
 
 "When I had opened up my line," continued my 
 friend, "I went over to Williams' store. I called at 
 the window as usual and said, 'Well, Williams, I am 
 open and ready for you at any time. When shall we 
 go over?' 
 
 " To tell the truth, Dickie,' said he, 'I've bought 
 your line for this season. I might just as well come 
 square out with it.' 
 
 " That is all right, Joe,' said I. 'If that is the 
 case, it will save us the trouble of doing the work 
 over again.' In truth, my heart had sunk clear 
 down to my heels, but I never let on. I simply 
 smiled over the situation. The worst thing I could 
 have done would be to get mad and pout about it. 
 Had I done so I should have lost out for good. 
 The salesman who drops a crippled wing weakens 
 himself, so I put on a smiling front. This made 
 Williams become apologetic, for when he saw that 
 I took the situation good-naturedly he felt sorry that 
 
 61 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he could not give me business and began to make 
 explanations. 
 
 " 'I tell you,' said he, 'this other man came around 
 and told me that he could sell me a hat for twenty- 
 one dollars a dozen as good as you are selling for 
 twenty-four, and I thought it was to my business 
 interest to buy them. I thought I might as well have 
 that extra twenty-five cents on every hat as your 
 firm.' 
 
 "There! He haa given me my chance! Will- 
 iams,' said I, 'you bought these other goods on your 
 judgment. Do you not owe it to yourself to know 
 how good your judgment on hats is? You and I 
 have been such good friends Heaven knows I have 
 not a better one in this country, Joe that I never 
 talk business to you and George, your buyer. Now, 
 I'll tell you what is a fair proposition. You and 
 George come over to my sample room this after- 
 noon at i :3<D I leave at four and I will find out 
 how good your judgment and George's is when it 
 comes to buying hats.' Williams said: 'All right, 
 i :3O goes.' 
 
 "I immediately left, having a definite appoint- 
 ment. I went to my sample room and laid out in 
 a line twelve different samples of hats, the prices 
 of which ranged, in jumps of three dollars per dozen, 
 from nine dollars to twenty-seven dollars. In the 
 afternoon I went back to the store and got Williams 
 and George. As we entered the sample room, I said : 
 
 62 
 
'TO-NIGHT WE DANCE, TO-MORROW WE SELL CLOTHES AGAIN." 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 'Now, Williams, we are over here you, George 
 and myself to see what you know about hats. If 
 there is any line of goods in which you should know 
 values, certainly it is the line you have been handling 
 for six years. You have fingered them over every 
 day and ought to know the prices of them. Here is 
 a line of goods right out of the house from which 
 you have been buying so long. The prices range 
 from nine dollars to twenty-seven dollars a dozen. 
 Will it not be a fair test of your judgment and 
 George's for you to examine these goods very care- 
 fully everything but the brands for these would 
 indicate the price and lay out this line so that the 
 cheaper hats will be at one end of the bunch and the 
 best ones at the other? Very well! Now just 
 straighten out this line according to price.' 
 
 " Well, that looks fair to me,' said Williams. 
 
 "He and George went to work to straighten out 
 the goods according to price. They put a nine dol- 
 lar hat where a twelve dollar hat should have been, 
 and vice versa. They put a twenty-four dollar hat 
 where a twenty-four dollar hat belonged, and an 
 eighteen dollar hat right beside it, indicating that the 
 two were of the same quality. The next hat I handed 
 them was one worth sixteen dollars and a half a 
 dozen. It contained considerable chalk that made it 
 feel smooth. After examining the 'sweat,' name and 
 everything they both agreed that this was a twenty- 
 
 63 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 seven dollars a dozen hat. When they did this, I 
 said : 
 
 ' 'Gentlemen, I will torture you no longer. Let me 
 preface a few remarks by saying that neither one of 
 you knows a single, solitary, blooming thing about 
 hats. Here is a hat that you say is worth twenty- 
 four dollars a dozen. Look at the brand. You have 
 it on your own shelves. You have been buying them 
 of this quality for six years at eighteen dollars a 
 dozen. And, what is worse still, here is a hat the 
 price of which you see in plain figures is sixteen dol- 
 lars and a half, and you say it is worth twenty-seven 
 dollars a dozen.' 
 
 u The faces of Williams and George looked as 
 blank as a freshly whitewashed fence. I saw that I 
 had them. Then was the time for me to be bold. A 
 good account was at stake, and at stake right then. 
 Besides, my reputation was at stake. When a sales- 
 man loses a good account the news of it spreads all 
 over his territory, and on account of losing one cus- 
 tomer directly he will lose many more indirectly ; for 
 merchants will hear of it and on the strength of the 
 information, lose confidence in the line itself. On 
 the other hand, if you can knock your competitor 
 out of a good account it is often equal to securing 
 half a dozen more. I did not wish to lose out even 
 for one season, so I said : 'Now look here, Williams, 
 you have bought this other line of goods, and per- 
 haps you feel that you have enough for this season 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 and tKat you will make the best of a bad bargain. 
 You are satisfied in your own mind, and you have 
 told me as plainly as you ever told me anything in 
 your life, that my goods are better than those that 
 you have bought. I am going to tell you one thing 
 now that I would not say in the beginning: that 
 you have bought from a line of samples the goods 
 of which will not equal the samples you have looked 
 at. It is not the samples that you buy but it is the 
 goods that are delivered to you. Those which will 
 be delivered will not be as good as those which you 
 looked at. You know full well that my goods have 
 always come up to samples. You know that they 
 are reliable. Why do you wish to change? If you 
 wish to change for the sake of making an additional 
 twenty-five cents on each hat instead of giving it to 
 my firm, why did. you not take the hat which I have 
 been selling you all the time for $18 a dozen and 
 sell it for three dollars, the price you have always 
 been getting for my twenty-four dollars a dozen 
 hats? In that way you would make an additional 
 twenty-five cents. Be logical! If that's not profit 
 enough, why not sell a$i5ora$i2a dozen hat for 
 $3 ? Be logical ! If that's not enough, why not hire 
 a big burly duffer to stand at your front door, knock 
 down every man who comes in so that you can take 
 all the money he has without giving him anything. 
 You could bury him in the cellar. Be logical.' 
 
 65 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " ' 'Fraid they'd put me in the "pen",' said Will- 
 iams. 
 
 " 'If I were a judge and you were brought before 
 me charged with selling the twenty-one dollars a 
 dozen hat that you have bought to take the place of 
 mine (for which I charge you twenty- four dollars a 
 dozen) I would give you a life sentence. Let me tell 
 you, Williams, a man who is in business, if he expects 
 to remain in the same place a long time, must give 
 good values to his customers. In the course of time 
 they will find out whether the stuff he gives them is 
 good or poor. Go into a large establishment with 
 a good reputation and you will find out that they 
 give to the people who come to buy merchandise 
 from them good values. Now, the goods I have 
 sold you have always given your trade satisfaction. 
 Your business in my department is increasing, so 
 you say, and the reason is because you are giving to 
 your customers good values. Why not continue to 
 pursue this same policy? I am in town to do busi- 
 ness and to do business today. I cannot and I will 
 not take a turn down. If you want to continue to 
 buy my goods you must buy them and buy them 
 right now, even if you do have to take them right 
 on top of the other stuff that you have bought. I 
 shall make no compromise. My price is $1,000 
 more than you ever bought from me before. 1 
 
 " 'George,' said Williams, turning to his buyer, 'I 
 
 66 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 guess Dickie has us. Give him an order for $1,000 
 and don't let's go chasing the end of a rainbow in 
 such a hurry any more.' ' 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TRICKS OF THE TRADE. 
 
 THE man who believes that on every traveling 
 man's head should rest a dunce cap will some 
 fine day get badly fooled if he continues to 
 rub up against the drummer. The road is the big- 
 gest college in the world. Its classrooms are not con- 
 fined within a few gray stone buildings with red 
 slate roofs; they are the nooks and corners of the 
 earth. Its teachers are not a few half starved silk 
 worms feeding upon green leaves doled out by phil- 
 anthropic millionaires, but live, active men who plant 
 their own mulberry trees. When a man gets a sheep- 
 skin from this school, he doesn't need to go scuf- 
 fling around for work; he already has a job. Its 
 museum contains, not a few small specimens of ore, 
 but is the mine itself. 
 
 Let your son take an ante-graduate course of a 
 few years on the road and he will know to what use 
 to put his book learning when he gets that. I do 
 not decry book lore; the midnight incandescent 
 burned over the classic page is a good thing. I 
 am merely saying that lots of good copper wire goes 
 to waste, because too many college "grads" start their 
 
 68 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 education wrong end first. They do not know for 
 what they are working. If I were running a school 
 my way and the object was to teach a boy method, 
 I'd hand him a sample grip before I'd give him a 
 volume of Euclid. Last night a few ideas struck 
 me when I thought my day's work was done. I 
 jumped out of bed seven times in twenty minutes and 
 struck seven matches so I could see to jot down the 
 points. The man on the road learns to "do it now." 
 Too many traveling men waste their months of 
 leisure. Like Thomas Moore, in their older days 
 they will wail : 
 
 "Thus many, like me, who in youth should have 
 
 .' tasted 
 
 The fountain that flows by philosophy's shrine, 
 Their time with the flowers on its margin have 
 
 wasted 
 And left their light urns all as empty as mine." 
 
 Yet many improve their hours of leisure from 
 business; if they do not, it is their own fault. I 
 met an old acquaintance on the street yesterday. "My 
 season is too short," said he. "I wish I could find 
 something to do between trips." I asked him why 
 he did not write for newspapers or do a dozen other 
 things that I mentioned. "I'm incapable," he re- 
 plied. "Well, that isn't my fault," said I. "No," 
 he answered, "it's mine!" 
 
 I know one man on the road who found time to 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 learn the German language. And, by the way, he 
 told me how it once served him a good turn. 
 
 "Once," said he, "when I was up in Minnesota, a 
 few years ago, I got a big merchant to come over 
 and look at my goods. That, you know, was half of 
 the battle." 
 
 And so it is ! When a merchant goes into a drum- 
 mer's sample room, he is on the field of Liao Yang 
 and, if he doesn't look out, the drummer will prove 
 himself the Jap ! 
 
 "It was my first trip to the town," continued my 
 friend. "The first thing my prospective customer 
 picked up after he came into my room was a sample 
 of a 'Yucatan' hat. You know how it goes when a 
 merchant comes into your sample room for the first 
 time he picks up the things he knows the price of. 
 If the prices on these are high, he soon leaves you; 
 if they seem right to him he has confidence in the 
 rest of your line and usually buys if the styles suit 
 him. The way to sell goods is either to have lower 
 prices or else make your line show up better than 
 your competitor's. Even though your prices be the 
 same as his, you can often win out by displaying 
 your goods better than your competitor does. Many 
 a time he is too lazy to spread his goods and show 
 what he really has; and his customer thinks the line 
 'on the bum' when, in truth, it is not. 
 
 The merchant, Alex Strauss was his name, 
 couldn't have picked up a luckier thing for me than 
 
 70 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 this Yucatan hat. The year previous, my house had 
 imported them finished, but that year we had had 
 them trimmed in our own shop. The duty was much 
 less on the unfinished body than on the trimmed hat; 
 therefore, the price had dropped considerably. 
 
 " 'How much do you vant for dis?' said Strauss, 
 picking up the Yucatan. 
 
 " Nine dollars a dozen/' said I, without explain- 
 ing why the price was so low. It would have been 
 as foolish for me to do this, you know, as to play 
 poker with my cards on the table face up. 
 
 "Strauss turned to his clerk Morris, who was with 
 him. They both examined the hat, and Alex said 
 in German to Morris : 'Den selben Hut haben wir 
 gehabt. Letzes Jahr haben wir sechzehn und ein 
 halb den Dutzen bezahlt. Das 1st sehr billig! (The 
 same hat we had. Last year we paid sixteen and a 
 half a dozen. This is very cheap.) 
 
 "Then Alex turned to me he was a noted bluffer 
 and said in English : 'Hefens alife ! Nine tol- 
 lars! Vy, I pought 'em last year for sefen and a 
 half!' 
 
 "I never saw such a bold stand in my life. The 
 expression on his face would have won a jackpot on 
 a bob-tailed flush. But I was in position to call his 
 bluff. His cards were on the table face up. 
 
 "I merely repeated his own words in his own 
 tongue : ( Den selben Hut haben wir gehabt. Letzes 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Jahr haben wir sechzehn und em halb den Dutzen 
 bezahlt. Das 1st sehr billig.' 
 
 " 'Hier, dake a seecar on me,' said Alex, offering 
 me a smoke. He bought a good bill from me and 
 has been a good customer ever since. 
 
 "Just to let you know what a hard proposition 
 Strauss was, I'll tell you another incident in connec- 
 tion with him : 
 
 " 'After I had known Alex for two years I went 
 into his store one morning, when I was on my fall 
 trip. He came from behind the counter to meet me, 
 wearing upon his face a smile of triumph. He had 
 never approached me before; I always had to hunt 
 him down. 
 
 "I said, 'Hello, Alex, how goes it?' 
 
 " 'Dis is how choes id,' said he, handing me a 
 card. 'Dot's de way id choes mit ev'rypody dis sea- 
 
 son.' 
 
 "On the card which he handed me and to every 
 traveling man who came in were these words: 
 'Don't waste your time on me; I will not buy any 
 goods until I go to market. Alex.' 
 
 "Reading the card quickly, I said to him: 'Thank 
 you, Alex, may I have another one of these cards?' 
 
 "He handed me another one, saying, 'Vot you 
 vant mit anudder vun ?' 
 
 ' 'I want one to hold as a keepsake of the man, 
 of all men, who is gladdest to see me when I get 
 
 72 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 around; the other I shall pin to the order I shall 
 take from you today and send to my firm/ 
 
 "With a sweeping bow, I said, * Adieu, Alex; Auf 
 wiedersehen,' and left the store. 
 
 "I knew Alex's habits. He always went to dinner 
 when the town clock struck twelve. A deaf shoe- 
 maker in the next block regulated his watch, they 
 say, by Alex's movements. A few minutes past 
 twelve I went back to the store and left on the front 
 show case a bunch of samples done up in a red cloth. 
 On some of them were large green tags telling the 
 quantity I had of each and the price. I also wrote 
 on the green tags the words 'Job Lot.' 
 
 "I knew that Alex would see the bundle; and I 
 knew that he would open it a merchant will always 
 look at samples if you take them to his store. I also 
 knew that Alex, when he saw the mystic words c job 
 Lot,' would be half crazy. Adam and Eve were not 
 more tempted by the forbidden fruit than is the 
 Yehuda (Hebrew) merchant by a metziah (bar- 
 gain). 
 
 "I went back to the hotel. After luncheon I sent 
 out my advance cards and took up a book. My mind 
 was perfectly easy, because I knew just exactly what 
 was going to happen. 
 
 "At a quarter to six, Abie, Alex's boy, disturbed 
 me while I was in the middle of a chapter and said: 
 Tapa wants to see you right away. The store closes 
 at six.' 
 
 73 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "I knew that meant business, but I said to Abie: 
 'Tell your papa if he'll excuse me I'll not come over. 
 Won't you please say goodbye to him for me ? And 
 won't you, Abie, like a good boy bring me a bundle 
 I left on the show case. It has a red cloth around 
 it' 
 
 " Finishing my chapter, I started slowly toward 
 Alex's store. I met Abie. But he didn't have the 
 red bundle I knew he wouldn't. 
 
 " 'Papa says, come over. He wants to see you,' 
 said Abie. 
 
 As I went into the store a minute before six, Alex 
 was pacing up and down the floor. My samples 
 were spread upon the show case. 
 
 " 'Eff you vant your samples, dake 'em avay your- 
 self. Do you subbose I raice poys to vait on dravel- 
 ing men?' said Alex. He was keeping up his bluff 
 well. 
 
 "With this I began to stack together my samples. 
 
 "'Vait! Vait!' said Alex, 'Aind you choing to 
 gif a man a jance to puy some choots?' 
 
 ' 'Sure,' said I, 'if you want to, but I thought you 
 were going to wait until you went into market.' 
 
 " 'Veil, you vas a taisy,' said Alex; and in three 
 minutes he was the quickest buyer I ever saw 
 I booked an order for six hundred dollars. 
 
 ' 'Now, I see,' said Alex, as he shook hands and 
 started home, Vot you vanted mit dot udder cart.' " 
 
 Strategy will win out in business, but not decep- 
 
 74 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tion. The traveling man who wishes to win in the 
 race of commerce, if he plays sharp tricks, will get 
 left at the quarter post. It is rather hard, some- 
 times, to keep from plucking apples that grow in 
 the garden of deception, especially if they hang over 
 the fence. I sat one night beside one of the boys 
 who was sending out his advance cards. He was 
 making his first trip over a new territory. 
 
 "Blast it!" said he, tearing up a card he had writ- 
 ten. 
 
 "Don't swear, or you'll not catch any fish," said I. 
 
 "Yes, but I did such a fool thing. I addressed 
 a card to a merchant and then turned it over and 
 signed his name not mine to it. Wasn't that a 
 fool thing to do?" 
 
 "No, not at all," I replied, laughing. "If you had 
 sent that card to him, he would have read it. Other- 
 wise, he will chuck the one you do send into the 
 basket." 
 
 "Bright idea!" quoth my friend. 
 
 A few months afterward I met this same man. 
 "Say," said he, "that was a straight tip you gave 
 me on that advance card scheme. It worked like a 
 charm. Half of the men I went to see had kept the 
 cards on their desks and I had no trouble getting 
 their ears. Some were expecting a long lost relative. 
 When they showed me my cards with their names 
 on them I was always amazed at such a queer mis- 
 
 75 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 take. There was one exception. I told one man why 
 I did it, and he nearly threw me out of his store." 
 
 When I was told this I felt ashamed to think I 
 had taught duplicity to an innocent. I did not know 
 to what it might lead him. 
 
 Stolen fruits may look like they are sweet, but 
 taste them, and they are bitter. I knew a man who 
 sold shoes in the State of Washington. He was 
 shrewd and sharp. He learned of an old English- 
 man who, although his store was in an out of the 
 way town, did a large business. The shoeman wrote 
 half a dozen letters to himself care of the old Eng- 
 lishman, addressing them as "Lord" So and So. 
 When he reached the town the Englishman most 
 graciously handed him the letters, and to all ques- 
 tions of the shoeman, who commanded a good Brit- 
 ish accent, answered, u Yes, my lord," or u No, my 
 lord." 
 
 The shoe man explained that, like the merchant, 
 he had hated to leave the old country, but that 
 America sad to state was a more thrifty country 
 and he had invested in a large shoe factory in Bos- 
 ton. He said he was merely out traveling for his 
 health and to look over the country with a view to 
 placing a traveling salesman on the territory. The 
 Englishman gave him a large open order, supposing, 
 of course, that a lord would carry no samples. The 
 old merchant was so tickled at having a chance to 
 buy from a lord that, notwithstanding his reserve, 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he one day told his dry goods man about it. This 
 was shortly before the goods arrived. 
 
 "Why, that fellow," said the dry goods man, "is 
 no more of a lord than I am. He is not even an 
 Englishman." He did not know that he was "queer- 
 ing" a bill, for this is one thing that one traveling man 
 will never deliberately do to another. He knows too 
 well what a battle it is to win a bill, and he will not 
 knowingly snatch from the victor the spoils of war. 
 
 The old Englishman returned the "lord's" goods 
 without opening the cases. 
 
 Although the lord did not steal a base on his sharp 
 run, I know of one instance where a shrewd traveling 
 man sold a bill by a smart trick. 
 
 In Ohio there was a merchant notoriously hard to 
 approach. He was one of the kind who, when you 
 told him your business, would whistle and walk away 
 and who would always have something to do in an- 
 other part of the store when you drew near him the 
 second time. What an amount of trouble a man of 
 that kind makes for himself ! The traveling man is 
 always ready to "make it short." When he goes into 
 a store the thing he wishes to know, and how quickly, 
 is: "Can I do any business here?" The merchant 
 will have no trouble getting rid of the drummer if he 
 will only be frank. All he must do is to give a fair 
 reason why he does not wish to do business. He can 
 say: "I have bought" that is the best one, if it is 
 true ; it is the index finger pointing out a short route 
 
 77 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 for the salesman straight to the front door. Or, he 
 can say: "I have all in that line I can use for some 
 time." "I have an old personal friend to whom I 
 give my trade for these goods he treats me square- 
 ly" is a good answer. So, too, is the statement. "I 
 have an established trade on this brand, my custom- 
 ers ask for it, and it gives them entire satisfaction 
 what's the use of changing?" Any one of these 
 statements will either rid the merchant of the trav- 
 eling man or else raise an issue soon settled. 
 
 I will let my friend himself tell how he got the 
 ear of the whistling merchant. 
 
 4 'The boys had told me old Jenkins was hard to 
 get next to, but I made up my mind to reach him. 
 It's lots more fun anyway to land a trout in swift 
 water than to pull a carp out of a muddy pond; be- 
 sides the game fish is better to eat. When I went 
 into his store, Jenkins fled from me, and going 
 into his private office, slammed the door behind him. 
 I made for the office. I had not come within ten 
 feet from the window before the old man said gruf- 
 fly: 'I don't want to buy any goods; I don't want 
 even to listen to a traveling man this morning.' 
 
 "This did not stop me. I walked to the window, 
 took a pad of paper out of my pocket and wrote on 
 a slip: *I have some samples I would like to show 
 you. I will bring them over.' I handed the slip to 
 old Jenkins and left him. The man who can do 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the odd, unexpected thing, is the one who gets the 
 ear. 
 
 "When I brought my samples in I sell a specialty 
 line of baby shoes I spread them on the counter. 
 The old man was curious to see. what a 'deaf and 
 dumb man' was selling, I suppose, for up he marched 
 and looked at my line. He picked up a shoe and 
 wrote on a piece of paper: 'How much?' I wrote 
 the price and passed the slip back to him. 'What 
 are your terms ?' he wrote back. 'Bill dated Novem- 
 ber ist, 5% off, ten days,' I replied on paper. 'Price 
 your line right through,' he scribbled. 
 
 "With this I wrote the price of each shoe on a 
 slip and put it under the sample. Old Jenkins called 
 his shoe man. They both agreed that the line was 
 exceptional just what they wanted and that the 
 prices were low. But the old man wrote: 'Can't use 
 any of your goods; the line I am buying is cheaper.' 
 
 I made no answer to this but began packing my 
 grip. The old man tried to write me so fast that he 
 broke the points off his pencil and the clerk's. While 
 he sharpened his pencil I kept on packing. He took 
 hold of my hand and made a curious sign, saying, 
 'Wait.' But I went right on until the old man had 
 written: 'Don't pack up. I will buy some goods 
 from you because I feel sorry for you.' 
 
 : ' 'Thank you, sir,' I wrote, 'but I am no charity 
 bird; I want to sell goods only to those who appre- 
 ciate my values. Charity orders are always small ones 
 
 79 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 and a small one will not be sufficient for me to give 
 you the exclusive sale.' That was a clincher, for 
 when a merchant sees a good thing he will overbuy, 
 you know, just to keep his competitor from having a 
 chance at it. I started again packing. 
 
 " 'I really like your goods and will buy a nice bill 
 if you will sell no one else in town/ wrote the old 
 man nervously. 4 I was only joking with you.' 
 
 "Just as I had finished writing down my order, 
 never having spoken a word to old Jenkins, a travel- 
 ing man friend came in and said, in his presence: 
 'Hello, Billy! How are you?' 
 
 " Tretty well, thank you,' said I. 
 
 "'What! Can you hear and talk?' half yelled 
 the old man. 
 
 " 'To be sure,' I wrote back, 'but it would have 
 been impolite to talk to you; because you said, as I 
 drew near the window, you didn't wish to listen to a 
 traveling man this morning. Thank you for your 
 order. Good-bye.' 
 
 The old man never forgot that day. The last time 
 I was around, he said, 'Confound you, Billy! What 
 makes you ask me if I want any baby shoes? You 
 know I do and that I want yours. I believe, though, 
 if you were to die I'd have to quit handling the line; 
 it would seem so strange to buy them from any but 
 a deaf and dumb man.' ' 
 
 It is all right for the traveling man to put his wit 
 against the peculiarities of a wise, crusty old buyer, 
 
 80 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 but it is wrong to play smart with a confiding mer- 
 chant who knows comparatively little of the world. 
 The innocent will learn. 
 
 A clothing man once told me of a sharp scheme 
 he once worked on a Minnesota merchant. 
 
 "When I was up in Saint Paul on my last trip," 
 said he, "a country merchant what a 'yokel' he was ! 
 came in to meet me. He had written my house 
 he wanted to see their line. But when he reached the 
 hotel another clothing man grabbed him and got him 
 to say he would look at his line after he had seen 
 mine. When he came into my room, I could see 
 something was wrong. I could not get him to lay 
 out a single garment. When a merchant begins to 
 put samples aside, you've got him sure. After a 
 while, he said: 'Well, I want to knock around a 
 little ; I'll be in to see you after dinner.' 
 
 4 'I am expecting you to dine with me,' said I. 
 'It's after eleven now; you won't have time to go 
 around any. You'd better wait until this afternoon.' I 
 smelt a mouse, as there were other clothing men in 
 town ; so I knew I must hold him. But he was hard 
 to entertain. He wouldn't smoke and wouldn't drink 
 anything but lemonade. Deliver me from the mer- 
 chant who is on the water wagon or won't even take 
 a cigar ! He's hard to get next to. After we finished 
 our lemonade, I brought out my family photographs 
 and kept him listening to me tell how bright my 
 children were until noon. 
 
 81 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "When we finished luncheon I suggested that we 
 go up and do our business as I wanted to leave town 
 as soon as I could. Then he told me he felt he ought 
 to look at another line before buying and that he had 
 promised another man he would look at his line. 
 
 "Had I 'bucked' on that proposition it would have 
 knocked me out, so I said : 'To be sure you should. 
 I certainly do not wish you to buy my goods unless 
 they please you better than any you will see. We 
 claim we are doing business on a more economical 
 scale than any concern in the country. We know 
 this, and I shall be only too glad to have you look 
 at other goods ; then you will be better satisfied with 
 ours. I'll take pleasure even in introducing you to 
 several clothing men right here in the house.' 
 
 "This line of talk struck ten. My yokel friend 
 said: 'Well, you talk square and I want to buy of 
 you. I like a man who thinks lots of his family, any-, 
 way ; I've got a big family myself seven children 
 baby's just a month old and a fine boy. But I prom- 
 ised my partner I'd look around if I had a chance, 
 and I think I ought to keep my word with him.' 
 
 "Luckily there was another salesman from my firm 
 in town and opened up that same day in the hotel. 
 I sent for him, never letting my yokel friend get 
 away from me a foot. I saw the other man, at 
 whose line my friend wished to look, sitting in the of- 
 fice; but I knew he would obey the rule of the road 
 
 82 
 
w 
 
 c* 
 
 I 
 
 
 o 
 
 w 
 
 J 
 J 
 
 b 
 
 
 a 
 
 Q 
 O 
 tn 
 
 s 
 
 w 
 
 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 and not come up to the merchant until I had let him 
 
 go- 
 
 "My partner was a deuce of a long time com- 
 ing. I listened to episodes in the lives of all of those 
 seven children. I took down notes on good remedies 
 for whooping cough, croup, measles, and all the ills 
 that flesh is heir to and thanked Heaven we had 
 struck that subject! Finally my partner, Sam, came. 
 As he drew near I gave him the wink, and, introduc- 
 ing my friend to him, said: 'Now, Mr. Anderson 
 is in town to buy clothing. I have shown him my 
 line, but he feels he ought to look around. Maybe I 
 haven't all the patterns he wants, and if I can get 
 only a part of the order there is no one I'd rather 
 see get the other than you. Whatever the result, 
 you'll bring Mr. Anderson to my room, 112, when 
 you get through. Show him thoroughly. I'm in no 
 hurry.' 
 
 "Sam marched Anderson up to his room. He 
 caught onto my game all right. I knew he would 
 hold him four hours, if necessary, and tell him all 
 about his family history for seven generations. 
 
 "When Sam left, I went over to the cigar stand, 
 pulled out my order book and figured about long 
 enough to add up a bill. I filled my cigar case and 
 going over to my competitor, at whose line Ander- 
 son had promised to look, offered him one. He had 
 made a sort of 'body snatch' from me anyway and 
 
 83 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 was ashamed to say anything about Anderson, but he 
 asked: 'How's business?' 
 
 " 'Coming in carriages today,' said I. 'My city 
 customer was over early this morning and, no sooner 
 had he gone than a man from the country came in. 
 Two clothing bills in one day is all right, isn't it? 
 I just turned my country customer over to Sam, as he 
 has a few new patterns in his line I want him to 
 show. Guess I'll go pack up shortly.' 
 
 "I hadn't told a point blank lie, and my com- 
 petitor had no right to ask about my affairs, anyway. 
 He also went to pack up. 
 
 "I let Sam entertain Anderson until I knew my 
 competitor was out of the way. Then I sent a note 
 up to him. In due time he brought the merchant 
 down and soon excused himself. 
 
 " 'That's a mighty nice fellow,' said Anderson, 
 'but my ! his goods are dear. Why, his suits are two 
 to three dollars higher than yours. You'll certainly 
 get my bill. I told my partner I believed your house 
 would be all right to buy from.' 
 
 "I took the order from Anderson, but I was half 
 glad when I heard that he had died a few months 
 afterward; for if he had lived he would have been 
 sure to catch up with me when Sam and I were both 
 in market. And then my goose would have been 
 cooked for all time with him, sure." 
 
 And so it would. 
 
 84 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HELPING HAND. 
 
 THE helping hand is often held out by the man 
 on the road. Away from home he is depen- 
 ent upon the good will of others ; he fre- 
 quently has done for him an act of kindness; he is 
 ever ready to do for others a deed of friendship or 
 charity. Road life trains the heart to gentleness. It 
 carries with it so many opportunities to help the 
 needy. Seldom a day passes that the traveling sales- 
 man does not loosen his purse strings for some one in 
 want no, not that; he carries his money in his vest 
 pocket. Doing one kind act brings the doer such a 
 rich return that he does a second generous deed and 
 soon he has the habit. The liberality of the travel- 
 ing man does not consist wholly of courting the 
 favor of his merchant friends he is free with them, 
 but mainly because it is his nature; it is for those 
 from whom he never expects any return that he does 
 the most. 
 
 A friend of mine once told this story: 
 "It was on the train traveling into Lincoln, Ne- 
 braska, many years ago. It was near midnight. It 
 was, I believe, my first trip on the road. Just in 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 front of me, in a double seat, sat a poor woman 
 with three young children. As the brakeman called 
 'Lincoln, the next station 1 Ten minutes for lunch 1' 
 I noticed the woman feeling in her pockets and look- 
 ing all around. She searched on the seats and on the 
 floor. A companion, Billie Collins, who sat beside 
 me leaned over and asked: 'Madam, have you lost 
 something ?' 
 
 "Half crying, she replied, 'I can't find my purse 
 I want to get a cup of coffee; it's got my ticket 
 and money in it and I'm going through to Denver.' 
 
 " 'We'll help you look for it,' said Billy. 
 
 "We searched under the seats and up and down 
 the aisle, but could not find the pocket book. The 
 train was drawing near Lincoln. The poor woman 
 began to cry. 
 
 " 'It's all the money I've got, too,' she said piti- 
 fully. 'I've just lost my husband and I'm going out 
 to my sister's in Colorado. She says I can get work 
 out there. I know I had the ticket. The man took 
 it at Ottumwa and gave it back to me. And I had 
 enough money to buy me a ticket up to Central City 
 where my sister is. They won't put me off, will 
 they? I know I had the ticket. If I only get to Den- 
 ver, I'll be all right. I guess my sister can send me 
 money to come up to her. I've got enough in my 
 basket for us to eat until she does. I can do with- 
 out coffee. They won't put me off, wi 11 ?' 
 
 "The woman couldn't finish the sentence. 
 
 86 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "One of the boys Ferguson was his name who 
 sat across the aisle beside a wealthy looking old man, 
 came over. 'Don't you worry a bit, Madam/ said 
 he. 'You'll get through all right. I'll see the con- 
 ductor.' The old man a stockholder in a big bank, 
 I afterward learned merely twirled his thumbs. 
 
 "The conductor came where we were and said: 
 'Yes, she had a ticket when she got on my division. 
 I punched it and handed it back to her. That's all 
 I've got to do with the matter.' 
 
 " 'But,' spoke up Collins, 'this woman has just 
 lost her husband and hasn't any money either. She's 
 going through to Colorado to get work. Can't you 
 just say to the next conductor that she had a ticket 
 and get him to take care of her and pass her on to the 
 next division?' 
 
 " 'Guess she'll have to get off at Lincoln,' an- 
 swered the conductor gruffly, 'our orders are to carry 
 no one without transportation.' All railroad men 
 have not yet learned that using horse sense and being 
 polite means promotion. 
 
 "The poor woman began to cry but my friend 
 Billie, said : 'Don't cry, Madam, you shall go through 
 all right. Just stay right where you are.' 
 
 "The conductor started to move on. 'Now, you 
 just hold on a minute, sir, said Collins. 'When this 
 train stops you be right here right here, I say 
 and go with me to the superintendent in the depot. 
 If you don't you won't be wearing those brass but- 
 
 8? 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tons much longer. It's your business, sir, to look 
 after passengers in a fix like this and I'm going to 
 make it my business to see that you attend to yours.' 
 
 u The conductor was lots bigger than my friend; 
 but to a coward a mouse seems as big as an elephant 
 and 'brass buttons' said : 'All right, I'll be here ; but 
 it won't do no good.' 
 
 "As the conductor started down the aisle, Ferguson 
 turned to the woman and said : 'You shall go through 
 all right, Madam; how much money did you have?' 
 
 " 'Three dollars and sixty-five cents,' she answered 
 she knew what she had to a penny three dollars 
 and sixty-five cents; And I'll bet she knew where 
 every nickel of it came from ! A cruel old world this 
 to some people, for a while ! 
 
 "The train had whistled for Lincoln. Ferguson 
 took off his hat, dropped in a dollar, and passed it 
 over to Billie and me. Then he went down the 
 aisle, saying to the boys, 'Poor woman, husband just 
 died, left three children, going to hunt work in Colo- 
 rado, lost her purse with ticket and all the money she 
 had.' He came back with nearly enough silver in 
 his hat to break out the crown eighteen dollars! 
 
 :< 'Will you chip in, Colonel?' said Ferguson to 
 the old man who had been his traveling companion? 
 
 " 'No,' answered the old skinflint, 'I think the rail- 
 road company ought to look after cases of this kind. 
 Ahem! Ahem!' 
 
 'Well,' said Ferguson, snatching the valise out 
 
 88 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 of his seat I never saw a madder fellow 'We've 
 enough without yours even if you are worth more 
 than all of us. You're so stingy I won't even let my 
 grip stay near you.' 
 
 "When the train stopped at Lincoln, Billie and 
 Ferguson took the conductor to the superintendent's 
 office. They sent me to the lunch counter. I got 
 back first with a cup of coffee for the mother and a 
 bag for the children. But pretty soon in bolted Billy 
 and Ferguson. Billie handed the woman a pass to 
 Denver, and Ferguson dumped the eighteen dollars 
 into her lap. 
 
 " 'Oh, that's too much ! I'll take just three dollars 
 and give me your name so that I can send that back,' 
 said the woman, happier than any one I ever saw. 
 
 "But we all rushed away quickly, Billy saying: 
 'Oh, never mind our names, madam. Buy something 
 for the children; Good-bye, God bless you !' ' 
 
 Not the poor widow, alone, but even the big, able- 
 bodied, hungry tramp comes in often to share the 
 drummer's generosity. A friend once told me of a 
 good turn he did for a "Weary Willie" in Butte. 
 
 Now if there is any place on earth where a man 
 is justified in being mean, it is in Butte. It is a min- 
 ing camp. It rests upon bleak, barren hills ; the sul- 
 phuric fumes, arising from roasting ores, have long 
 since killed out all vegetation. It has not even a 
 sprig of grass. This smoke, also laden with arsenic, 
 sometimes hovers over Butte like a London fog. 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 More wealth is every year dug out of the earth in 
 Butte, and more money is squandered there by more 
 different kinds of people, than in any place of its size 
 on earth. The dictionary needs one adjective which 
 should qualify Butte and no other place. Many a 
 time while there I've expected to see Satan rise up 
 out of a hole. Whenever I start to leave I feel I am 
 going away from the domain of the devil. 
 
 u One morning I went down to the depot before 
 five o'clock," said my friend. "I was to take a be- 
 lated train. It was below zero, yet I paced up and 
 down the platform outside breathing the sulphur 
 smoke. I was anxious to catch sight of the train. 
 Through the bluish haze, the lamp in the depot cast 
 a light upon a man standing near the track. I went 
 over to him, supposing he was a fellow traveling 
 man. But he was only a tramp who had been fired 
 out of the waiting room. I wore a warm chinchilla, 
 but it made my teeth chatter to see this shivering 
 'hobo' his hands in his pockets and his last sum- 
 mer's light weight pinned close around his throat. 
 
 " 'Fine morning, old man,' said I. 
 
 " 'Maybe you t'ink so, Major,' replied the hobo, 
 'but you stan' out in de breeze long's I have in 
 Fourt' of Chuly togs an' you'll have to have a long 
 pipe dream to t'ink it's a fine mornin'. Say, pard, 
 cup o' coffee an' a sinker wouldn't go bad.' 
 
 "I took the tramp to the lunch counter. I was 
 
 90 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 hungry myself and told the waiter to give him what 
 he wanted. 
 
 " 'Cup o' coffee an' a sand'ich t'ick slab o' dc 
 pig, Cap'n, please,' said my hobo friend. 
 
 "I saw some strawberries behind the counter and 
 I said to the waiter: Just start us both in on straw- 
 berries and cream, then let us have coffee and some 
 of that fried chicken.' 
 
 " 'Sport, you are in on this,' said I to the tramp. 
 
 "He unpinned his coat and looked with longing 
 eyes on the waiter as he pulled the caps off the ber- 
 ries ; he never said a word, merely swallowing the se- 
 cretion from his glands. When he had gulped his 
 berries, I told the waiter to give him some more. 
 
 " 'Ever hungry, Major?' said the hobo. 'Dat's 
 kind a feather weight for my ap'tite. Let me have 
 a ham sand'ich 'stead. 
 
 " 'No, go on, you shall have a good square meal. 
 Here, take some more berries and have this fried 
 chicken,' I answered, shoving over another bowl of 
 fruit and a big dish with a half a dozen cooked 
 chickens on it. 'Help yourself like it all belonged to 
 you.' 
 
 "The hobo ate two halves of chicken, drained his 
 cup of coffee and started to get down from his stool. 
 But he cast a hungry look at the dish of chicken. 
 
 " 'Have some more, old man,' said I. 
 
 " 'It's been s'long since I had a good square 
 that I could stan' a little more, Major; but let me go 
 
 91 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 up against a ham sancTich it's got a longer reach.' 
 
 " 'No, have chicken all the chicken you want 
 and some more coffee,' said I. 
 
 "Eat! How that fellow did go for it five pieces 
 of chicken ! I'd rather see him repeat that perform- 
 ance than go to a minstrel show. He slid off his 
 stool again, saying: 'Major, I guess I'm all in. 
 T'anks.' 
 
 " 'Oh, no; have some pie,' I said. 
 
 " 'Well,' he replied, 'Major, 's you shift the deck, 
 guess I will play one more frame.' 
 
 " 'Gash o' apple,' said Weary to the waiter. 
 
 "When I insisted upon his having a third piece 
 of pie, the hobo said: 'No, Major, t'anks, I got to 
 ring off or I'll break de bank.' 
 
 "He, for once, had enough. I gave him a cigar. 
 He sat down to smoke contented, I thought. I paid 
 the bill; things are high in Montana, you know his 
 part was $2.85. My hobo friend saw $3.55 rung 
 up on the cash register. Then I went over and sat 
 down beside him. 
 
 " 'Feeling good?' said I. 
 
 " 'Yep, but chee ! Dat feed, spread out, would 
 a lasted me clean to Sain' Paul.' ' 
 
 Although the traveling man will feed the hungry 
 tramp on early strawberries and fried chicken when 
 ham sandwiches straight would touch the spot better, 
 all of his generosity is not for fun. A drug sales- 
 man told me this experience: 
 
 92 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "A few years ago/' said he "I was over in one 
 of the towns I make in Oregon. I reached there on 
 Saturday evening. I went to my customer's store. 
 Just before he closed he said to me: Til take you 
 to-night to hear some good music.' 
 
 " Where is it? 5 said I. Til be glad to go along.' 
 
 " 'It's down the street a couple of blocks; it's a 
 kind of garden. A family runs it. The old man 
 serves drinks and the rest of the family his wife 
 and three daughters play, to draw the crowd. I 
 want you to hear the oldest girl play the violin.' 
 
 "Now, traveling men are ready any time to go 
 anywhere. Sometimes they fly around the arc light, 
 but they can buzz close and not get their wings 
 scorched. They must keep their heads clear and 
 they do, nowadays, you know. It's not as it was in 
 the old days when the man who could tell the most 
 yarns sold the most goods; the old fashioned travel- 
 ing man is as much behind the times as a bobtailed 
 street car. Well, of course, I told my friend Jerry 
 that I'd go along. I should have put in my time 
 working on new trade, but he was one of the best 
 fellows in the world and one of my best friends. 
 Yet he would not give me much of his business; we 
 were too well acquainted. 
 
 "When we went to the garden Jerry, his part- 
 ner and myself we sat up front. We could look 
 over the crowd. It was a place for men only. The 
 dozen tables were nearly all full, most of the seats 
 
 93 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 being occupied by men from the mines some of 
 them wearing blue flannel shirts. But the crowd was 
 orderly. The music made them so. The oldest 
 daughter was only seventeen, but she looked twenty- 
 three. She showed that she'd had enough experience 
 in her life, though, to be gray. There was a tortured 
 soul behind her music. Even when she played a rag- 
 time tune she would repeat the same notes slowly and 
 get a chord out of them that went straight to the 
 heart. The men all bought rounds of drinks freely 
 between the numbers, but they let them remain un- 
 tasted ; they drank, rather, the music. 
 
 "We listened for two hours. The music suited 
 my mood. I was a long way from home. Most of 
 the men there felt as I did. Twelve o'clock came, 
 yet no one had left the garden. More had come. 
 Many stood. All were waiting for the final number, 
 which was the same every night, 'Home, Sweet 
 Home.' 
 
 "There is something more enchanting about this 
 air than any other in the world. Perhaps this is be- 
 cause it carries one back when he once has 'passed its 
 portals' to his 'Childhood's Joyland Little Girl and 
 Boyland.' It reminds him of his own happy young 
 days or else recalls the little ones at home at play 
 with their toys. I know I thought of my own dear 
 little tots when I heard the strain. How that girl 
 did play the splendid old melody ! I closed my eyes. 
 The garden became a mountain stream, the tones of 
 
 94 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the violin its beautiful ripples ripples which flowed 
 right on even when the sound had ceased. 
 
 " 'Home, Sweet Home !' I thought of mine. I 
 thought of the girPs a beer garden ! 
 
 " 'Boys/ said I to Jerry and his partner, 'I am 
 going up to shake hands with that girl; I ow r e her 
 a whole lot. She's a genius.' I went. And I thanked 
 her, too, and told her how well she had played and 
 how happy she had made me. 
 
 " Tm glad somebody can be happy,' she answered, 
 drooping her big, blue eyes. 
 
 ' 'But aren't you happy in your music?' I asked. 
 
 " 'Yes,' she replied in such a sad way that it meant 
 a million nos. 
 
 "When I went back to my friends they told me 
 the girl's father was not of much account or other- 
 wise he would send her oft to a good teacher. 
 
 " 'Now, that's going to take only a few hundred 
 dollars,' said I. 'You are here on the spot and there 
 surely ought to be enough money in the town to edu- 
 cate this girl. I can't stay here to do this thing, but 
 you can put me down for fifty.' 
 
 "Well, sir, do you know the people in the town 
 did help that girl along. When the women heard 
 what a traveling man was willing to do, they no 
 longer barred her out because, for bread, she played 
 a violin in a beer garden, but they opened their doors 
 to her and helped her along. The girl got a music 
 
 95 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 class and with some assistance went to a conservatory 
 of music in Boston where she is studying today." 
 
 Traveling men are not angels; yet in their black 
 wings are stuck more white feathers than they are 
 given credit for this is because some of the feathers 
 grow on the under side of their wings. Much of 
 evil, anyway, like good, is in the thinking. It is wrong 
 to say a fruit is sour until you taste it; is it right to 
 condemn the drummer before you know him? 
 
 Days and nights, too of hard work often come 
 together in the life of the road man. Then comes one 
 day when he rides many hours, perhaps twenty-four, 
 on the train. He needs to forget his business ; he does. 
 Less frequently, I wager, than university students, 
 yet sometimes the drummer will try his hand at a 
 moderate limit in the great American game. 
 
 A year or more ago a party of four commercial 
 travelers were making the trip from Portland to San 
 Francisco, a ride of thirty-six hours two nights and 
 one day. They occupied the drawing room. After 
 breakfast, on the day of the journey, one of the 
 boys proposed a game of ten cent limit "draw." 
 They all took part. There is something in the game 
 of poker that will keep one's eyes open longer than 
 will the fear of death, so the four kept on playing 
 until time for luncheon. About one o'clock the train 
 stopped for half an hour at a town in Southern Ore- 
 gon. The party went out to take a stretch. Instead 
 of going into the dining room they bought, at the 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 lunch counter, some sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, 
 doughnuts and pies and put them in their compart- 
 ment. On the platform an old man had cider for 
 sale; they bought some of that. Several youngsters 
 sold strawberries and cherries. The boys also bought 
 some of these. In fact, they found enough for a 
 wholesome, appetizing spread. 
 
 The train was delayed longer than usual. The 
 boys, tired of walking, came back to their quarters. 
 They asked me to have some lunch with them. Just 
 as one of the party opened a bottle of cider a little, 
 barefoot, crippled boy, carrying his crutch under one 
 arm and a basket half full of strawberries under the 
 other, passed beneath the window cf their drawing 
 room. 
 
 "Strawberries. Nice fresh strawberries, misters 
 only a dime a box," called out the boy. "Three 
 for a quarter if you'll take that many." 
 
 There he was, the youthful drummer, doing in his 
 boyish way just what we were making a living, and 
 supporting somebody, too, by finding his customer 
 and then selling him. He was bright, clean and 
 active; but sadly crippled. 
 
 "Let's buy him out," said the youngest of our 
 party I was now one of them. 
 
 "No, let's make a jackpot, the winner to give all 
 the winnings to the boy for his berries," spoke up 
 the oldest. 
 
 The pot was opened on the first hand. The limit 
 
 97 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 had been ten cents, hut the opener said 'Til 'crack' 
 it for fifty cents, if all are agreed." 
 
 Every man stayed in for the boy! Strangely 
 enough four of us caught on the draw. 
 
 "Bet fifty cents," said the opener. 
 
 "Call your fifty," said numbers two and three, 
 dropping in their chips. 
 
 "Raise- it fifty," spoke up number four. 
 
 The other three "saw the raise." 
 
 "Three Jacks," said the opener. 
 
 "Beats me," said number two. 
 
 "Three queens here," said number three. 
 
 "Bobtail," spoke up number four. 
 
 "Makes no difference what you have," broke in 
 number three. "I've the top hand, but the whole 
 pot belongs to the boy. The low hand, though, 
 shall go out and get the berries." 
 
 As the train pulled out, the little barefoot drum- 
 mer with $6.50 hobbled across the muddy street, the 
 proudest boy in all Oregon ; but he was not so happy 
 as were his five big brothers in the receding car. 
 
 Brethren, did I say. Yes, Brethren ! To the man 
 on the road, every one he meets is his brother no 
 more, no less. He feels that he is as good as the 
 governor, that he is no better than the boy who 
 shines his shoes. The traveling man, if he succeeds, 
 soon becomes a member of the Great Fraternity 
 the Brotherhood of Man. The ensign of this order 
 is the Helping Hand. 
 
 98 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 I once overheard one of the boys tell how he had 
 helped an old Frenchman. 
 
 "I was down in Southern Idaho last trip," said he. 
 "While waiting at the station for a train to go up 
 to Hailey, an old man came to the ticket window 
 and asked how much the fare was to Butte. The 
 agent told him the amount considerably more than 
 ten dollars. 
 
 " 'Mon Dieul Is it so far as that?' said the old 
 man. 'Eh bien! (very well) I must find some work.' 
 
 "But he was a chipper old fellow. I had noticed 
 him that morning offering to run a foot race with the 
 boys. He wasn't worried a bit when the agent told 
 him how much the fare to Butte was. He was really 
 comical, merely shrugging his shoulders and smiling 
 when he said: 'Very well, I must find some work.' 
 Cares lighten care. 
 
 "The old man, leaving the ticket window, sat down 
 on a bench, made the sign of a cross and took out a 
 prayer book. When he had finished reading I went 
 over and sat beside him. I talked with him. He was 
 3ne of Nature's noblemen without a title. He was 
 a French Canadian. He came to Montana early in 
 the sixties and worked in the mines. Wages were 
 high, but he married and his wife became an in- 
 valid; doctors and medicines took nearly all of his 
 money. He struggled on for over thirty years, tak- 
 ing money out of the ground and putting it into pill 
 boxes. Finally he was advised to take his wife to a 
 
 99 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 lower altitude. He moved to the coast and settled 
 in the Willamette Valley, in Oregon. His wife be- 
 came better at first; then she grew sick again. More 
 medicine ! 
 
 "Well, sir, do you know that old man over sev- 
 enty years of age was working his way back to 
 Butte to hunt work in the mines again. I spoke 
 French to him and asked him how much money he 
 had. 'Not much,' said he and he took out his 
 purse. How much do you suppose the old man had 
 in it? Just thirty-five cents! I had just spent half 
 a dollar for cigars and tossed them around. To see 
 that old man, separated from his wife, having to hunt 
 for work to get money so he could go where he could 
 hunt more work that he might only buy medicine 
 for a sick old woman and with just three dimes and 
 a nickel in his purse was too much for me ! I said 
 to myself: Til cut out smoking for two days and 
 give what I would spend to the old man.' 
 
 "I put a pair of silver dollars into the old man's 
 purse to keep company with his three dimes and one 
 nickel. It made them look like orphans that had 
 found a home. 'Mon Dieu! Monsieur, vous etes un 
 ange du del. Merci. Merci. 9 ( My God, sir, you are 
 an angel from Heaven. Thank you. Thank you.) 
 said the old man. 'But you must give me your ad- 
 dress and let me send back the money !' 
 
 I asked my old friend to give me his name and 
 told him that I would send him my address to Butte so 
 
 100 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he would be sure to get it; that he might lose it if 
 he put it in his pocket. 
 
 u He told me his name. I gave him a note to the 
 superintendent at Pocatello, asking him to pass the 
 old Frenchman to Butte. We talked until my train 
 started. Every few sentences, the old man would 
 say: Que Dieu vous benisse, mon enfant!' (May 
 God bless you, my boy!) 
 
 "As I stood on the back end of my train, pulling 
 away from the station, the old man looked at me say- 
 ing: 
 
 " 'Adieu I Adieu P Then, looking up into the sky, 
 he made a sign of the cross and said: 'Que Dieu vous 
 protege, mon enfant!' (May God protect you, my 
 boy!) 
 
 "That blessing was worth a copper mine." 
 
 101 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HOW TO GET ON THE ROAD. 
 
 SINCE starting on the road many have asked me: 
 "How can I get a job on the road?" 
 
 Young men and old men have asked me this 
 clerks, stock boys, merchants and students. Even 
 wives have asked me how to find places for their 
 husbands. 
 
 Let's clear the ground of dead timber. Old men 
 of any sort and young men who haven't fire in their 
 eyes and ginger in their feet need not apply. The 
 u Old Man," who sits in the head office sizes up the 
 man who wishes to go out on the road and spend a 
 whole lot of the firm's money for traveling expenses 
 with a great deal more care than the dean of a col- 
 lege measures '-the yduth who comes to enter school. 
 The -dean thinks : "Well, maybe we can make some- 
 thing' out of this boy, dull as he is. We'll try." But 
 the business man says: u That fellow is no good. He 
 can't sell goods. What's the use of wasting money 
 on him and covering a valuable territory with a 
 dummy?" 
 
 On the other hand, the heads of wholesale houses 
 are ever on the watch for bright young men. This is 
 
 102 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 no stale preachment, but a live fact! There are 
 hundreds of road positions open in every city in 
 America. Almost any large firm would put on ten 
 first class men to-morrow, but they can't find the men. 
 
 The "stock" is the best training school for the 
 road the stock boy is the drummer student. Once 
 in a while an old merchant, tiring of the routine of 
 the retail business, may get a "commission job" 
 that is, he may find a position to travel for some 
 firm, usually a "snide outfit" if he will agree to 
 pay his own traveling expenses and accept for his 
 salary a percentage of his sales shipped. Beware, 
 my friend, of the "commission job !" Reliable firms 
 seldom care to put out a man who does not "look 
 good enough" to justify them in at least guaranteeing 
 him a salary he can live on. They know that if a man 
 feels he is going to live and not lag behind, he will 
 work better. The commission salesman is afraid to 
 spend his own money ; yet, were he to have the firm's 
 money to spend, many a man who fails would suc- 
 ceed. Once in a while a retail clerk may get a place 
 on the road, but the "Old Man" does not look on 
 the clerk with favor. The clerk has had things come 
 his way too easy. His customers come to him; the 
 man on the road must go after his customers. It is 
 the stock boy who has the best show to get on the 
 road. 
 
 The stock boy learns his business from the ground 
 up or better, as the Germans say, "from the house 
 
 103 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 out." If one young man cannot become a surgeon 
 without going through the dissecting room, then an- 
 other cannot become a successful drummer without 
 having worked in stock. The merchant, who oft- 
 times deals in many lines, wishes to buy his goods 
 from the man who knows his business; and unless 
 a man knows his business he would better never 
 start on the road. 
 
 But, my dear boy, to merely know your business 
 is not all. You may know that this razor is worth 
 $12.00 a dozen and that one $13.50; that this 
 handle is bone and that one celluloid; but that won't 
 get you on the road. You must have a good front. 
 I do not mean by this that you must have just ex- 
 actly 990 hairs on each side of the "part" on your 
 head; that your shoes must be shined, your trousers 
 creased, your collar clean and your necktie just so. 
 Neatness is a "without-which-not ;" but there must be 
 more a boy must work hard, be polite, honest, full 
 of force, bright, quick, frank, good-natured. The 
 "Old Man" may keep to sweep the floor a lazy, 
 shiftless, stupid, silly, grouchy "stiff"; but when he 
 wants some one to go on the road he looks for a live 
 manly man. When you get in stock it is up to you; 
 for eyes are on you, eyes just as anxious to see your 
 good qualities as you are to show them, eyes that are 
 trying to see you make good. 
 
 How can I get "in stock?" That's easy. If you 
 are in the city you are on the spot; if you are in, 
 
 104 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the country, "hyke" for the city! See that you 
 haven't any cigarette stains on your fingers or tobac- 
 co in the corners of your mouth. Go into the whole- 
 sale houses, from door to door until you find a job. 
 If you are going to let a few or a hundred turn-downs 
 dishearten you, you'd better stay at home; for when 
 you get on the road, turn-downs are what you must 
 go up against every day. If you know some travel- 
 ing man, or merchant, or manager, or stock boy, 
 maybe he can get you a u job in stock.'' But remem- 
 ber one thing: When you get there, you must de- 
 pend upon Number One. Your recommendation is 
 worth nothing to you from that hour on. This is the 
 time when the good front gets in its work. 
 
 The city is a strong current, my boy, in which 
 there are many whirlpools ready to suck you under; 
 yet if you are a good swimmer you can splash along 
 here faster than anywhere else. A successful travel- 
 ing man, once told me how he got on the road. 
 
 "I was raised in a little town in Tennessee," said 
 he. "A traveling man whose home was in my na- 
 tive town took me along with him, one day, when he 
 made a team trip to Bucksville, an inland country 
 town, fourteen miles away. That was a great trip for 
 me fourteen miles, and staying over night in a 
 hotel! the first time I had ever done so in my life. 
 And for the first time I knew how it felt to have a 
 strange landlord call me u mister." It was on that 
 
 105 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 trip that I caught the fever for travel, and that trip 
 put me on the road! 
 
 u When, the next morning after reaching Bucks- 
 ville, my drummer friend had finished business and 
 packed his trunks, he said to me : 'Billie, I guess you 
 may go and get the team ready.' I answered him, 
 saying, 'The team is ready and backed up, sir, for 
 the trunks.' In three minutes the trunks were loaded 
 in and we were off. 
 
 " 'Billie,' said my friend I shall never forget it 
 for it was the dawn of hope for me, as I had never 
 had any idea what I was going to do in after life ! 
 'I'll tell you, Billie, you would make a good drum- 
 mer, suh. When we drove down yesterday you count- 
 ed how many more horseflies lit on the bay mare 
 than on the white horse. You reasoned out that the 
 flies lit on the bay because the fly and the mare were 
 about the same color and that the fly was not so 
 liable to be seen and killed as if it had lit on the 
 white. That showed me you notice things and rea- 
 son about them. To be a good traveling man you 
 must make a business of noticing things and thinking 
 about them. Real good hoss sense is a rare thing. 
 Then, this mo'nin', when I said "Get the team 
 ready," you said "It is ready, siih," and showed 
 me that you look ahead, see what ought to be done 
 and do it without being told. Generally any fool 
 can do what he is told to; but it takes a man of 
 sense to find things to do, and if he has the grit to 
 
 106 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 do them he will get along. I'm just going to see if 
 I can't get a place in our house for you, Billie. YouVe 
 got the stuff in you to make a successful drummer, 
 suh. Yes, suh I Hoss sense and grit, suh hoss 
 sense and grit!' 
 
 "Sure enough the next Christmas night I wasn't 
 then sixteen I struck out for the city in company 
 with my older traveling man friend. He had got 
 me a place in his house. The night I left, my mother 
 said to me: 'Son, I've tried to raise you right. I'll 
 soon find out if I have. I believe I have and that 
 you will get along.' My father then gave me the 
 only word of advice he ever gave me in his life: 
 'Son, be polite,' said he; 'this will cost you nothing 
 and be worth lots.' 
 
 "Well, sir, with those words ringing in my ears: 
 'Use hoss sense; have grit;' 'Be polite;' 'Son, I've 
 tried to raise you right,' I struck out for the city. As 
 I think it over now, the thing that did me the most 
 good was my father's advice: 'Son, be polite, this 
 will cost you nothing and be worth lots.' The boy 
 can never hope to be much if he does not know that 
 he should tip his hat to a lady, give his seat to a 
 gray-haired man, or carry a bundle for an old 
 woman. 
 
 "How strange it was for me that night, to sleep 
 with my friend in a bed on wheels! How strange, 
 the next morning, to wash in a bowl on wheels ! and 
 to look out of the Pullman windows as I wiped my 
 
 107 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 face ! I was living then I And when I reached the 
 city! Such a bustle I've never seen since. As I 
 walked up a narrow street from the depot, I fell on 
 the slippery sidewalk. 'Better get some ashes on 
 your feet' said my friend. And, indeed, I did need 
 to keep ashes on my feet for a long time. I had be- 
 fore me a longer and more slippery sidewalk than I 
 then dreamed of. Every boy has who goes to the 
 city. But, when he gets his sled to the top, he's in 
 for a long, smooth slide 1 
 
 "I started in to work for twenty dollars a month 
 not five dollars a week ! I found there was a whole lot 
 of difference, especially when I had to pay $4.50 a 
 week for board and forty cents for laundry. I was 
 too proud to send home for money and too poor to 
 spend it out of my own purse. Good training this ! 
 One winter's day a friend told me there was skating 
 in the park. I asked a gentleman where the park 
 was. 'Go three blocks and take the car going south,' 
 said he. I went three blocks and when the car came 
 along I followed it, for I could not afford a single 
 nickel for car fare. What a fortune I had when, 
 during busy season, I could work nights and get 
 fifty cents extra for supper money! None of this 
 did I spend, as my boarding house wasn't far away. 
 The only money that I spent in a whole year was 
 one dollar for a library ticket the best dollar I 
 ever spent in my life! Good books, and there are 
 plenty of them free in all cities, are the best things 
 
 108 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 in the world, anyway, to keep a boy out of devil- 
 ment. The boy who will put into his head what he 
 will get out of good books will win out over the one 
 who gets his clothes full of chalk from billiard cues, 
 One day the "Old Gentleman" saw me at the noon 
 hour as I was going to the library with a book under 
 my arm. 'So you read nights, do you, Billie,' said 
 he. 'Well, you keep it up and you will get ahead of 
 the boys who don't.' 
 
 "Work? I w r orked like a beaver. I was due at 
 seven in the morning. I was always there several 
 minutes before seven. One morning the old gen- 
 tleman came in real early and found me at work, 
 while a couple of the other boys were reading the 
 papers and waiting for the seventh strike, and be- 
 fore most of the stock boys had shown up. At 
 noon I would wrap bundles, take a blacking pot and 
 mark cases, run the elevator or do anything, to 
 "keep moving." I did not know that an eye was on 
 me all the time; but there was. At the end of a 
 year the old gentleman called me into the office and 
 said: 'Billie, you've done more this year than we 
 have paid you for; here's a check for' sixty dollars, 
 five dollars a month back pay. Your salary will be 
 $25.00 a month next year. You may also have a 
 week's vacation. 
 
 "How big that sixty was! Rockefeller hasn't as 
 much to-day as I had then. What he has doesn't 
 make him happy; he wants more. I had enough. 
 
 109 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Why, I was able to buy a new rig-out. I can see 
 that plaid suit of clothes to this day ! I could afford 
 to go home looking slick, to visit my mother and 
 father; I could buy a present for my sweetheart, too. 
 The good Lord somehow very wisely puts 'notions' 
 into a young man's head about the time he begins to 
 get on in the world, and the best thing on earth for 
 him when he is away from home is to have some 
 girl away back where he came from think a whole 
 lot of him and send him a crocheted four-in-hand 
 for a Christmas present. This makes him loathe 
 foul lips and the painted cheek. When a boy 
 'grows wise' he stands, sure's you're born, on the 
 brink of hell. It's a pity that so many, instead of 
 backing away when they get their eyelashes singed 
 a little, jump right in. 
 
 "All during my first year I had helped the sample 
 clerk, who had the best job in the house, get out 
 samples for the salesmen. It was not u my business" 
 to do this; but I did it during spare time from my 
 regular work. When I came back from my visit 
 home, the old gentleman found me on the floor one 
 day while I was tagging samples. 'Billie,' said he, 
 'Fritz (the sample clerk) is going out on the road 
 for us next week. I have decided to let you take 
 his place here in the house. You are pretty young 
 but we think you can do it.' 
 
 "I tried to answer back, 'I'll do my best,' but I 
 couldn't say a word. I only choked. The old gen- 
 
 no 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tleman had to turn away from me; it was too much 
 for him, too. After he stepped on the elevator, he 
 turned around and smiled at me. I heard him blow 
 his nose after the elevator sunk out of sight. I 
 knew then that he believed in me and I said to my- 
 self, 'He shall never lose his faith.' 
 
 "In a few days Fritz had gone out on his trip 
 and I was left alone to do his work, the old gentle- 
 man handed me a sample book one afternoon near 
 closing time. 'Billie,' says he, 'Gregory is in a hurry 
 for his samples. Express them to Fayetteville.' He 
 had merely written the stock numbers in the book. 
 It was up to me to fill in on the sample book the 
 description of the goods and the prices. This I did 
 that night at home from memory. I had learned 
 the stock that well. I also wrote the sample tickets. 
 It took me until after midnight. Next morning I 
 was waiting at the front door when the early man 
 came to unlock it* That night the samples went to 
 Fayetteville. 
 
 "Two days afterward the old gentleman called 
 me to the office and asked me: 'When can Gregory 
 expect his samples ? He's in a big hurry.' 
 
 " 'I sent them Wednesday night, sir,' said I. 
 
 'Wednesday night ! Why it was Tuesday night 
 when I gave you the sample book!' 
 
 " Tm sure they went,' said I, 'because I saw the 
 cases go into the express wagon.' 
 
 " 'All right/ said the old gentleman; and he 
 
 in 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 smiled at me again the same way he did the morn- 
 ing he made me the sample clerk, a smile which told 
 me I had his heart, and I have it to this day. 
 
 "Next morning he sent up to me a letter from 
 Gregory, who wrote that the samples came to him 
 in better shape than ever before. At the end of that 
 year I got a check for $150 back pay, and my salary 
 was raised again. At the end of the third year the 
 old gentleman gave me more back pay and another 
 raise, saying to me: 'Billie, I have decided to put 
 you on the road over Moore's old territory. He is 
 not going to be with us any more. Be ready to start 
 January ist.' I was the youngest man that firm 
 ever put out. I was with them sixteen years and it 
 almost broke my heart to leave them." 
 
 "You bet," said I, "the stock boy has a chance if 
 he only knows it." 
 
 "Yes," answered my friend, "sure he has. My 
 mother put in my trunk when I left home a Sunday 
 School card on which were the words: 'Thy God 
 seeth thee, my son.' Without irreverence I would 
 advise every stock boy who wants to get on the road 
 to write these words and keep them before him 
 every day: 'The eyes of the old man are upon me.' ' 
 
 I once heard one of the very successful clothing 
 salesmen of Chicago tell how he got on the road. 
 
 "I had been drudging along in the office making 
 out bills for more than a year, at ten a week," said 
 he. "My father traveled for the firm but he never 
 
 112 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 would do anything to get me started on the road. 
 He thought I would fall down. I was simply crazy 
 to go. I had seen the salesmen get down late, sit 
 around like gentlemen, josh the bosses, smoke good 
 cigars and come and go when they pleased for eight 
 months in the year. This looked better to me than 
 slaving away making out bills from half past seven 
 in the morning until half past six at night, going out 
 at noon hungry as a hound and having to climb a 
 ladder after a ham sandwich, a glass of milk and a 
 piece of apple pie. 
 
 "I had kept myself pretty well togged up and, as 
 my father 'wouldn't do anything to get me started, I 
 made up my mind to go straight to the boss myself. 
 He was a little fat sawed-off. He wore gold- 
 rimmed glasses and whenever he was interested in 
 anybody, he would look at him over his specs. He 
 did not know much about the English language, but 
 he had a whole lot more good common sense than 
 I gave him credit for then. It never hurts a boy in 
 the house, you know, who wants to go on the road 
 to go square up and say so. He may get a turn- 
 down, but the boss will like his spunk, and he stands 
 a better show this way than if he dodges back and 
 waits always for the boss to come to him. Many a 
 boy gets out by striking the 'Old Man' to go out. If 
 the boy puts up a good talk to him the old man will 
 say: 'He came at me pretty well. By Jove, he can 
 approach merchants, and we will give him a chance.' 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 u One day, pretty soon after I had braced the 
 old man to send me out, a merchant in Iowa wrote 
 in that he wanted to buy a bill of clothing. They 
 looked him up in Dun's and found that he was in the 
 grocery business. My father didn't wish to go out 
 the town was in his territory. I overheard the 
 old man in the office say to him: 'Let's send Chim.' 
 
 "Well, Jim started that night. They told me to 
 take a sleeper, but I sat up all night to save the two 
 dollars. I didn't save much money, though, because 
 in the middle of the night I got hungry and filled 
 up on peanuts and train bananas. The town was up 
 on a branch and I didn't get there until six o'clock 
 the next day. When I reached there, I went right 
 up to my man's store. You ought to have seen his 
 place ! The town was about seven hundred, and the 
 store just about evened up with it groceries and 
 hardware. I got a whiff from a barrel of sauer 
 kraut as I went in the door; on the counter was a 
 cheese case; frying pans and lanterns hung down 
 on hooks from the ceiling; two farmers sat near the 
 stove eating sardines and crackers. No clothing 
 was in sight and I said to myself: 'Well, I'm up 
 against it; this man can't buy much; he hasn't any 
 place to put it if he does.' But I've since learned 
 one thing: You never know who is going to buy 
 goods and how T many on the road must learn that 
 the man who has nothing in his line is the very man 
 who can and will buy the most, sometimes, because 
 
 114 
 
"YOU OUGHT TO HAVE SEEN HIS PLACE." 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he hasn't any. And besides, the little man may be 
 just in the notion of spreading himself. 
 
 "A young man was counting eggs back near the 
 coal oil can. He was the only one around who 
 seemed to have anything to do with the store. I 
 walked up to him and told him who I was. He 
 said, 'Yes, we are glad to see you. I'm just out of 
 school and father wants to put me in business here. 
 He is going to put in all his time in the bank. He 
 wants me to take charge of the store. IVe told him 
 we could sell other things besides groceries they 
 are dirty, anyway, and don't pay much profit ; so we 
 have started to build on another room right next 
 door and are going to put in other lines. IVe told 
 father we ought to put in clothing, but he hasn't 
 fully made up his mind. I'll ask him to come down 
 after supper and you can talk to him.' 
 
 ' 'Hasn't fully made up his mind, and here I am 
 my first time out, 24 hours away, and a big ex- 
 pense,' all this went through me and I couldn't eat 
 any supper. 
 
 "The old banker that evening was just tolerably 
 glad to see me. It wasn't exactly a freeze, but there 
 was lots of frost in the air. He said, after we had 
 talked the thing over, that he would look at my 
 samples the next morning, but that he would not buy 
 unless my line was right and the prices were right. 
 I was sure my 'prices were right.' I had heard the 
 bosses talk a whole year about how cheaply they 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 sold their goods. I had heard them swear at the 
 salesmen for cutting prices and tell them that the 
 goods were marked at bare living profit; and I 
 was green enough to believe this. I also knew that 
 my line was the best one on the road. I had not 
 stopped to figure out how my bosses could stay 
 under their own roof all the time and know so much 
 about other houses' goods and be absolutely sure that 
 their ow r n line was bound *to be the best ever. I had 
 heard the road-men many times tell the bosses to 
 'wake up,' but I did not believe the salesmen. You 
 know that a young fellow, even if he is with a weak 
 house, starts out on his first trip feeling that his house 
 is the best one. Before he gets through with his 
 maiden trip, even though his house is a thoroughbred, 
 he will think it is a selling plater. 
 
 "That night I worked until two o'clock opening 
 up. I did not know the marks so I had to squirm out 
 what the characters meant and put the prices on the 
 tickets in plain figures so I would know what the 
 goods were worth. But this was a good thing. The 
 salesman or the firm that has the honesty and the 
 boldness to mark samples in plain figures and stick 
 absolutely to their marked price, will do business with 
 ease. Merchants in the country do not wish to buy 
 cheaper than those in other towns do ; they only wish 
 a square deal. And, say what you will, they are kind 
 o' leery when they buy from samples marked in char- 
 acters not plain figures. They often use a blind 
 
 116 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 mark to do scaly work on their own customers and 
 they don't like to have the same game worked on 
 themselves. Honest merchants, and I mean by this 
 those who make only a reasonable profit, mark their 
 goods in plain figures, cut prices to nobody prefer 
 to do business with those who do it their way. The 
 traveling man who breaks prices soon loses out. 
 
 "That night I couldn't sleep. I was up early next 
 morning and had a good fire in my sample room. I 
 had sense enough to make the place where I was 
 going to show my goods as comfortable as I could. 
 I sold a bill of $2,500 and never cut a price. 
 
 4 When I got home I put the order on the old 
 man's desk and went to my stool to make out bills. 
 The old man came in. He picked up the order and 
 looked over it carefully, then he asked one of the 
 boys : * Vere's Chim ? Tell him to com heer. I vant 
 to see him.' 
 
 "I walked into the office. The old man was look- 
 ing at me over his specs as I went in. He grabbed 
 me by the hand and said so loud you could hear him 
 all over the house: 'Ah, Chim, dot vas tandy orter. 
 How dit you do id mitoud cotting prices, Chim? 
 You vas a motel for efery men ve haf in der house. 
 I did nod know ve hat a salesman in der office. By 
 Himmel! you got a chob on der roat right avay, 
 Chim.' " 
 
 117 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FIRST EXPERIENCES IN SELLING. 
 
 I SAT with a group of friends around a table one 
 evening not long ago, in one of the dining rooms 
 of the Brown Palace Hotel in Denver. The dining 
 room was done in dark stained oak, the waiters whis- 
 pered to each other in foreign tongues, French and 
 German; on the walls of the room were pictures of 
 foreign scenes painted by foreign hands; but, aside 
 from this, everything about us was strictly American. 
 We had before us blue points with water-cress salad, 
 mountain trout from the Rockies, and a Porterhouse 
 three inches thick. We had just come out of the 
 brush and were going to "Sunday" in Denver. It 
 was Saturday night, A man who has never been on 
 the road does not know what it is to get a square meal 
 after he has been "high-grassing it" for a week or 
 two, and when such can become the pleasure of a 
 drummer, he quickly forgets the tough u chuck" he 
 has been chewing for many days. 
 
 We were all old friends, had known each other in 
 a different territory many years before; so, when we 
 came together again, this time in Denver, not having 
 seen each other for many years, we talked of old 
 
 118 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 times and of when we met with our first experiences 
 on the road. 
 
 When a man first begins to hustle trunks he has a 
 whole lot to learn. Usually he has been a stock- 
 boy, knowing very little of the world beyond the 
 bare walls in which he has filled orders. To his fel- 
 low travelers the young man on the road is just about 
 as green as they make them, but the rapid way in 
 which he catches on and becomes an old-timer, is a 
 caution. 
 
 A great many decry the life of the traveling man, 
 even men on the road themselves are discontented, 
 but if you want to get one who is truly happy and 
 satisfied with his lot, find one who, after having en- 
 joyed the free and independent (yes, and delight- 
 ful!) life of the road, and then settled down for a 
 little while as a merchant on his own hook, insurance 
 agent, or something of that kind, and finally has gone 
 back to his grips, and you will find a man who will 
 say: "Well, somebody else can do other things, but, 
 for my part, give me the road." 
 
 After we had finished with the good things before 
 us and had lighted cigars, we could all see in the blue 
 curls of smoke that rose before us visions of our past 
 lives. I asked one of my friends, "How long have 
 you been on the road, Billy ?" 
 
 "Good Lord!" he yawned, "I haven't thought of 
 that for a long time, but I sure do remember when I 
 first started out. I left St. Louis one Sunday night 
 
 119 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 on the Missouri Pacific. It was nearly twenty years 
 ago. I remember it very well because that night I 
 read in a newspaper that there was such a thing as a 
 phonograph and, as I was traveling through Mis- 
 souri, I didn't believe it. I had to wait until I could 
 see one. The next day noon I struck Falls City, 
 Nebraska. It had taken me eighteen hours to make 
 the trip. To me it seemed as if I were going into a 
 new world and I was surprised to find, when I 
 reached Nebraska, that men way out there wore 
 about the same sort of clothes that they did in St. 
 Louis. I would not have been surprised a bit if some 
 Indian had come out of the bushes and tried to scalp 
 me. The depot was a mile and a half from the hotel. 
 Here I took my first ride in an omnibus. The inside 
 of that old bus, the red-cushioned seats and the ad- 
 vertisements of a livery stable, a hardware store, and 
 "Little Jake's Tailor Shop" were all new to me. Mud ? 
 I never saw mud so deep in my life. It took us an hour 
 to get up town. The little white hotel with the green 
 shutters on it was one of the best I ever struck in my 
 life. Many a time since then I have wished I could 
 have carried it the good friend, chicken and all 
 along with me in all my travels. My best friend and 
 adviser, an old road man himself, had told me this: 
 'When you get to a town, get up your trunks and 
 open them and then go and see the trade. You might 
 just as well hunt quail with your shells in your pocket 
 as to try to do business without your samples open.' 
 
 1 20 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "I opened up that afternoon. It took me three 
 hours. I put my samples in good shape so that I 
 knew where to lay my hands on anything that a cus- 
 tomer might ask for and you know if you go out to 
 sell anything you'd better know what you have to 
 sell ! My samples open, I went down the street and 
 fell into the first store I came to. The proprietor had 
 been an old customer of the house, but I now know 
 that the reason he gave me the ice pitcher was that 
 he had been slow in paying his bills and the house had 
 drawn on him. A wise thing, this, for a house to do 
 when they want to lose a customer! This was a 
 heart-breaker to me right at the start, but it was 
 lucky, because, if I had sold him, I would have 
 packed up and gone away without working the town. 
 A man on the road, you know, boys, even if he doesn't 
 do business with them, should form the acquaintance 
 of all the men in the town who handle his line. The 
 old customer may drop dead, sell out, or go broke, 
 and it is always well to have somebody else in line. 
 Of course there are justifiable exceptions to this rule, 
 but in general I would say: 'Know as many as you 
 can who handle your line.' 
 
 "After the old customer turned me down I went 
 into every store in that town and told my business. 
 I found two out of about six who said they would 
 look at my goods. By this time everybody had closed 
 up and I came back to the hotel and went to bed, 
 
 121 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 having spent the first day without doing any busi- 
 ness. 
 
 "Five men from my house in this same territory 
 had fallen down in five years and I, a kid almost, was 
 number six but not to fall down ! I said to myself, 
 7 am going to succeed.' The will to win means a 
 whole lot in this road business, too, boys. You 
 know, if you go at a thing half-heartedly you are sure 
 to lose out, but if you say *I will/ you cannot fall 
 down. 
 
 "Next morning I was up early and, before the 
 clerks had dusted off the counters, I went in to see 
 the old gentleman who had said he would look at my 
 goods. 
 
 " 'Round pretty early, aren't you, son?' said the 
 old gentleman. 
 
 " 'Yes, sir; but I'm after the worm,' said I. 
 
 " 'All right. Go up to your hotel and I'll be there 
 in half an hour.' 
 
 "Instead of waiting until he was ready for me, I 
 went to the hotel. After the half hour was up I 
 began to get nervous. It was an hour and a half be- 
 fore he came. I hadn't then learned that the best 
 way to do is to go with your customer from his store 
 to yours, instead of sitting around and waiting for 
 him to come to you. This gives him a chance to get 
 out of the notion. 
 
 "I sold the old gentleman a pretty fair bill of hats, 
 but it was sort of a hit and miss proposition. He 
 
 122 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 would jump from this thing to that thing. I hadn't 
 learned that the real way to sell goods it to lay out 
 one line at a time and finish with that before going 
 to another. Pretty soon, though, good merchants 
 educated me how to sell a bill. This is a thing a 
 beginner should be taught something about before he 
 starts out. 
 
 u Customer No. 2 was a poke. But I suppose this 
 was the reason I sold him, because most of the boys, 
 I afterwards learned, passed him up and had nick- 
 named him c Old Sorgum-in-the-Winter.' It is a 
 pretty good idea to let a slow man have his way, 
 anyhow, if you have plenty of time, because when you 
 are selling goods in dozen lots, no matter how slow 
 a man is, you can get in a pretty good day's work 
 in a few hours. 
 
 When I got through with 'Old Sorgum' I had sev- 
 eral hours left before my train went west. Did I 
 pack up and quit? Bet your life not! I didn't have 
 sense enough then, I suppose, to know that I had 
 placed my goods in about as many stores as I ought 
 to. I then did the 'bundle act.' 
 
 "I did up a bunch of stuff in a cloth and went 
 down the street with the samples under my arm. I 
 did have sense enough, though, to tuck them under 
 my coat as I passed by the store of the man I had 
 sold. I didn't know, then, of the business jealousy 
 which is folly, you know there is between mer- 
 chants ; but I felt a little guilty just the same. The 
 
 123 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 only thing I sold, however, was a dozen dog-skid 
 gloves to the big clothing merchant on the corner. 
 That night I took the two o'clock train out of town 
 and had my first experience of sleeping in two beds 
 in two towns in one night but this, in those days, 
 was fun for me. 
 
 "Do you know, I had a bully good week? I was 
 out early that season, ahead of the bunch. By Sat- 
 urday afternoon I had worked as far west as 
 Wymore. I went up to see a man there on Saturday 
 afternoon. He said, Til see you in the morning.' 
 Well, there I was ! I had been raised to respect the 
 Sabbath and between the time that he said he would 
 see me in the morning and the time that I said all 
 right which was about a jiffy I figured out that it 
 would be better to succeed doing business on Sunday 
 than to fail by being too offensively good. For a 
 stranger in a strange place work is apt to be less 
 mischievous than idling, even on the Sabbath Day. 
 
 "Heavens ! how I worked those days ! After I had 
 made the appointment for Sunday morning I went 
 back to the hotel and threw my stuff into my trunks 
 quickly by this time I had learned that to handle 
 samples in a hurry is one of the necessary arts of the 
 road and took a train to a little nearby town which 
 I could double into without losing any time. I even 
 had the nerve to drag a man over to my sample room 
 after he had closed up on Saturday night! I didn't 
 sell him anything that time, but afterwards he became 
 
 124 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 one of my best customers. It pays to keep hustling, 
 you know. 
 
 u Whew! how cold it was that night. The train 
 west left at 3 a. m. Heavens! how cold my room 
 was. A hardware man had never even slept in it, to 
 say nothing of its ever having known a stove. The 
 windows had whiskers on them long as a billy 
 goat's; the mattress was one of those thin boys. I 
 hadn't then learned that the cold can come through 
 the mattress under you just about as fast as it can 
 through the quilts on top. I hadn't got onto the 
 lamp chimney trick." 
 
 "Why, what's that?" spoke up one of the boys. 
 
 "Aren't you onto that?" said Billy. "You can 
 take a lamp chimney, wrap it up in a towel and put 
 it at your feet and it will make your whole bed as 
 warm as toast. 
 
 "Well, I went back to Wymore the next morning 
 and sold my man. I cut the stuffing out of prices 
 because I had been told that the firm he bought from 
 was the best going, and I remembered the advice that 
 my old friend had given me : 'It's better, Billy, to be 
 cussed for selling goods cheap than to be fired for 
 not selling them at all.' Of course I don't agree with 
 this now, but I slashed that bill just the same. 
 
 "Next morning, when I reached Beatrice, the first 
 thing I saw in the old hotel (I still recall that dead, 
 musty smell) was a church directory hanging on the 
 
 125 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 wall. In the center of the directory were printed 
 these words : 
 
 " *A Sabbath well spent brings a week of content 
 
 And plenty of health for the morrow; 
 But a Sabbath profaned, no matter what gained, 
 Is a certain forerunner of sorrow/ 
 
 u Down in the corner, where the glass was broken, 
 one of the boys who had without doubt profaned the 
 Sabbath, had written these words : 
 
 " 4 A man who's thrifty on Sunday's worth fifty 
 
 Of a half-sanctimonious duck; 
 He will get along well if he does go to dwell 
 Where he'll chew on Old Satan's hot chuck.' 
 
 u My business the week before had been simply out 
 of sight. The old man in the house wrote me the 
 only congratulatory letter I ever got from him in my 
 life. He was so well pleased with what I had done 
 that he didn't kick very hard even on the bill that I 
 had slashed. But that next week oh, my ! I didn't 
 sell enough to buy honeysuckles for a humming bird. 
 I began to think that maybe that Sunday bill had 
 'queered' me." 
 
 "But how about Sunday now, Bill?" spoke up one 
 of the boys. u Do you think you'd like to take a good 
 fat order to-morrow?" 
 
 u Yes, I've grown not to mind it out in this coun- 
 try," said Billy. u You know we've a saying out here 
 that the Lord has never come west of Cheyenne." 
 
 126 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "I shall never forget my first experience," said my 
 old friend Jim, as we all lighted fresh cigars having 
 forgotten the Dutch pictures and the black oak fur- 
 nishings. 
 
 "I had made a little flyer for the house to pick up 
 a bill of opening stock out in Iowa. They all thought 
 in the office that the bill wasn't worth going after, 
 so they sent me; but I landed a twenty-five hundred 
 dollar order without slashing an item, a thing no 
 other salesman up to that time had ever done, so the 
 old man called me in the office and gave me a job just 
 as soon as I came back. 
 
 "I started out with two hundred dollars expense 
 money. The roll of greenbacks the cashier handed 
 me looked as big as a bale of hay. I made a couple 
 of towns the first two days and did business in both 
 of them, keeping up the old lick of not cutting a price. 
 
 "The next town I was booked for was Broken 
 Bow, which was then off the main line of the 'Q,' 
 and -way up on a branch. To get there I had to go 
 to Grand Island. Now, you boys remember the 
 mob that used to hang out around the hotel at Grand 
 Island. That was the time when there were a lot of 
 poker sharks on the road. When I was a bill clerk 
 in Chicago I used to meet with some of the other 
 boys from the store on Saturday nights, play penny 
 ante, five-cent limit, and settle for twenty-five cents 
 on the dollar when we got through I was with a 
 clothing firm, you know. I had always been rather 
 
 127 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 lucky and I had it in my head that I could buck up 
 against anybody in a poker game. I had no trouble 
 finding company to sit in with. In fact, they looked 
 me up. In those days there were plenty of glass 
 bowls full of water setting 'round for suckers. My 
 train didn't leave until Monday morning and I had 
 to Sunday at Grand Island. 
 
 "We started in on Saturday night and played all 
 night long. By the time we had breakfast and this 
 we had sent up to the room I was out about forty 
 dollars. I wanted to quit them and call it off. I 
 thought this was about as much as I could stand to 
 lose and 'cover' in my expense account, but all of the 
 old sharks said, 'By jove, you have got nerve, Jim. 
 You have the hardest run of luck in drawing cards 
 that I ever saw.' They doped me up with the usual 
 words of praise and, after I had put a cup of coffee 
 or two under my belt, I went at it again, making up 
 my mind that I could stand to lose another ten. I 
 figured out that I could make a team trip and 
 'break a wheel' to even up on expenses. 
 
 "Well, you know what that means. The time for 
 you to quit a poker game (when you have money in 
 your pocket) is like to-morrow it never comes. By 
 nightfall I was dead broke. Then I began to think. 
 I felt like butting my brains out against a lamp-post; 
 but that wouldn't do. I ate supper all alone and 
 went to thinking what I'd do. 
 
 "I wasn't a kitten, by any means, so I went up to 
 
 128 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 my shark friends and struck one of them for enough 
 to carry me up to Broken Bow and back. He was a 
 big winner and came right up with the twenty. They 
 wanted to let me in the game again on 'tick,' but then 
 I had sense enough to know that I'd had plenty. I 
 went to my room and wrote the house. I simply 
 made a clean breast of the whole business. I told 
 them the truth about the matter that I'd acted the 
 fool and I promised them I'd never do it any 
 more; and I haven't played a game of poker since. 
 The old man of the house had wired me money to 
 Grand Island by the time I returned there and in 
 the first mail he wrote me to keep right on. 
 
 "Business was bum with me for the next three 
 days. I didn't sell a cent. One of the boys tipped 
 me on an Irishman down in Schuyler who had had a 
 squabble with his clothing house. I saw a chance 
 right there and jumped right into that town. I got 
 the man to look at my goods. He looked them all 
 through from A to Z, but I couldn't start that 
 Hibernian to save my life. 
 
 "He said, 'Well, your line looks pretty good; but, 
 heavens alive ! your prices are away too high.' Then 
 he said, picking up a coat : 'Look here, young man, 
 you're new on the road and I want to figure out and 
 show you that you're getting too much for your 
 goods. Now, you put down there, here is a suit that 
 you ask me $12 for. Just figure the cloth and the 
 linings, and the buttons, and the work. All told they 
 
 129 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 don't cost you people over seven dollars. You ought 
 to be able to and you can make me this suit for 
 $10. That's profit enough. You can't expect to do 
 business with us people out here in Nebraska and 
 hold us up. We're not in the backwoods. People 
 are civilized out here. Your house has figured that 
 we're Indians, or something of that kind. You know 
 very well that they sell this same suit in Illinois, 
 where competition is greater, for ten dollars. Now 
 I won't stand for any high prices like you're asking 
 me. I'm going to quit the old firm that I've been 
 buying goods from. I've got onto them. Now I'm 
 going to give my business to somebody and you're 
 here on the spot. Your goods suit me as far as pat- 
 tern and make and general appearance go, and I'll 
 do business with you, and do it right now, if you'll 
 do it on the right sort of basis.' 
 
 "Well, there I was. I hadn't sold a bill for three 
 days and I felt that this one was slipping right away 
 from me, too. I had come especially to see the man 
 and he had told me that he would buy goods from me 
 if I would make the price right. So I lit in to cut. 
 I sold him the twelve dollar suit for ten dollars. He 
 took a dozen of them. It was a staple. I didn't 
 know anything about what the goods were worth, 
 but he had made his bluff good. I sold him the bill 
 right through at cut prices on everything. The house 
 actually lost money on the bill. I have long since 
 learned that the only way to meet a bluffer is with a 
 
 130 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 bluff. This man had laid out a line of goods which 
 he fully intended, I know now, to buy from me at 
 the prices which I had first asked him for them, but 
 he thought he would buy them cheaper from me if he 
 could. 
 
 "Many a time after that, when I had got onto 
 things better, has this old Irishman laughed at me 
 about ho^ he worked me into giving him a bill of 
 goods, and enjoyed the joke of it Irishmanlike 
 more, I believe, than he did getting the bill at low 
 prices. 
 
 4 Well, my nerve was gone and I thought the only 
 way I could do business then was by cutting the 
 stuffing out of prices. I kept it up for a few days 
 until I received my next mail at Omaha. Whew! 
 how the old man did pour it into me. He wrote me 
 the meanest letter that a white man ever got. He 
 said: 'Jim, you can go out and play all the poker 
 that you want to, but don't cut the life out of goods. 
 You can lose a hundred and fifty dollars once in a 
 while, if you want to, playing cards, that will be a 
 whole lot better than losing a hundred and fifty every 
 day by not getting as much as goods are worth. Now 
 we're going to forget about the hundred and fifty 
 dollars you lost gambling, instead of charging it to 
 your salary account, as you told us to do. We had 
 made up our minds because you were starting out so 
 well and were keeping up prices, to charge this hun- 
 dred and fifty dollars to your expense account. We 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 were going to forget all about that, Jim; but if you 
 can't get better prices than you have been for the last 
 week, just take the train and come right on in to the 
 house. We can't afford to keep you out on the road 
 and lose money on you ;' and so on. 
 
 "I was scared to death. I didn't know that the 
 Old Man in the house was running a bigger bluff on 
 me than the Irishman to whom I made cut prices on 
 the bill. 
 
 "But that letter gave me my nerve back and I 
 ended up with a pretty fair trip. At that time I 
 hadn't learned that this road business is done on con- 
 fidence more than on knowledge. A salesman must 
 feel first within himself that his goods and prices are 
 right, and then he can sell them at those prices. If 
 you feel a thing yourself you can make the other 
 man feel it, especially when he doesn't know any- 
 thing about the values of the goods he buys. 
 
 "When I reached the house one of the boys in 
 stock patted me on the back and said: 'Jim, the 
 old man is tickled to death about what you've done. 
 He says you're making better profits for him than 
 any man in the house.' ' 
 
 "Well, I guess you held your job, all right, then, 
 didn't you, Jim?" 
 
 "Oh my, yes. I stayed with them that was my 
 old firm, you know for fifteen years, and I was a 
 fool for ever leaving them. I would have been a 
 partner in the house to-day if I hadn't switched off." 
 
 132 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "How long have you been out, Arthur?" said my 
 friend Jim, after ending his story. 
 
 "Well, so long that IVe almost forgotten it, boys, 
 but I shall never forget my start, either. The firm 
 that I worked for had a wholesale business, and they 
 were also interested in a retail store. I was stock 
 man in the retail house but I wasn't satisfied with it. 
 I was crazy to go out and try my luck on the road. I 
 braced the old man several times before he would 
 let me start ; but he finally said to me : 'Well, Arthur, 
 you're mighty anxious to go out on the road, and I 
 guess we'll let you go. It won't do much harm be- 
 cause I think that, after a little bit, you will want to 
 get back to your old job. Then you'll be satisfied 
 with it. I kind o' feel, though, that in sending you 
 out we'll be spoiling a good retail clerk to make a 
 poor traveling man. You've done pretty well selling 
 gloves a pair at a time to people who come in and 
 ask for them, but you're going to have a good deal 
 harder time when you go to selling a dozen at a 
 clip to a man who hasn't been in the habit of buying 
 them from you. But, as you're bent on going, we'll 
 start you out this season. You can get yourself ready 
 to go right away. 5 
 
 "My territory was Iowa. In the first town I struck 
 was the meanest merchant I've ever met in my life. 
 But I didn't know it then. He was one of the kind 
 who'd tell you with a grunt that he would not go to 
 your sample room but if you had a few good sellers 
 
 133 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to bring them over and he'd look at them. The 
 old hog ! Then about the time you'd get your stuff 
 over to his store something would have turned up to 
 make him hot and he'd take out his spite on you. 
 
 "Well, this old duck said he'd look at my sam- 
 ples of unlined goods. I rather thought that if I 
 could get him started on unlined goods I could sell 
 him on lined stuff and mittens. So I lugged over my 
 whole line myself. I didn't have sense enough to 
 give the porter a quarter to carry my grip over to his 
 store and save my energy, but, instead, I picked up 
 the old grip myself. It was all right for the first 
 block, but then I had to sit down and rest. The store 
 was four blocks away. On the home stretch I 
 couldn't go twenty steps before I had to sit down 
 and rest. It was so heavy that it almost pulled the 
 cords in my wrist in two. When I finally landed 
 the grip at the front of the old man's store, my 
 tongue was hanging out. He had then gone to din- 
 
 ner. 
 
 u 
 
 I thought I wouldn't eat anything but that I 
 would get my line ready for him by the time he 
 oame back, get through with him and take luncheon 
 later. I earned the grip to the back end of the store 
 and spread out my line on the counter. About one 
 o'clock he came in and I said to him, Tm ready for 
 you.' He walked away and didn't say a word but 
 totfk out a newspaper and read for half an hour. He 
 
 134 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 did it for pure meanness, for not a single customer 
 came into the store while he sat there. 
 
 "I was beginning to get a little hungry but I didn't 
 mind that then. When the young lady on the dry 
 goods side came back from dinner I sidled up to her 
 and talked about the weather for another half hour. 
 My stomach was beginning to gnaw but I didn't dare 
 go out. The old man by this time had gone to his 
 desk and was writing some letters. I waited until I 
 saw him address an envelope and put a stamp on it, 
 and then I braced him a second time. 
 
 " 'No, I guess I don't want any gloves.' 
 
 " Well, I've my goods all here and it'll be no 
 trouble to show them to you,' I said. 
 
 " 'Nope,' said he, and then started to write another 
 letter. 
 
 "When he finished that one, I said: 'Now, I don't 
 like to insist but as my goods are all hefe it won't 
 do any harm to look at them.' 
 
 "With this the old man turned on me and said: 
 
 " 'Looker here, young man, I've told you twict that 
 I don't want to buy any of your goods. Now, you 
 just get them in your grip and get them out of here 
 right quick; if you don't I'll throw them out and 
 you with them.' 
 
 "Well, the old duffer was a little bigger than I 
 was, and I didn't want to get into any trouble with 
 him ; not that I cared anything about having a scrap 
 with him, but I thought that the firm wouldn't like 
 
 135 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 it, and if they got onto me they'd fire me. So, with- 
 out saying a word, I began to pack my goods to- 
 gether. 
 
 "About that time a customer came in who wanted 
 to buy a pair of shoes. Some of my samples were 
 still on the counter near the shoe shelves. The old 
 man, with a sweep of his hand, just cleaned the 
 counter of my samples and there I was, picking them 
 up off the floor and putting them into my grip. I 
 felt like hitting him over the head with a nail puller 
 but I buckled up the straps and started sliding the 
 grip along, it was so infernally heavy to the front 
 door. 
 
 "Before I got to the front door, he came up and 
 took the grip out of my hand and piled it out on 
 the sidewalk and gave me a shove. Then he went 
 back to show the customer the pair of shoes. 
 
 "I was just a boy then was just nineteen and 
 this was the first man I'd called on. 
 
 " 'If they're all like this,' thought I to myself, 4 I 
 believe I'll go back home and sell them a pair at a 
 time to the boys I know who "come in" for them.' 
 
 "I lugged that grip back to the hotel, hungry as 
 I was. There was ice on the sidewalk but I was 
 sweating like a mule pulling a bob-tailed street car 
 full of fat folks. I was almost famished but I went 
 to my room and cried like a child. My heart was 
 broken. 
 
 "But after awhile my nerve came back to me, and 
 
h 
 
 
 Q 
 
 Z 
 Q 
 
 S 
 
 o 
 
 8 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 I thought, surely all the merchants I call on won't be 
 like that man, and I washed up and went down to 
 supper. After eating something I felt better. At the 
 supper table I told an old traveling man, who was 
 sitting at the table with me, about the way I'd been 
 treated. 
 
 " 'Well, come on, my boy, and I'll sell you a bill 
 tonight. That old fellow is the meanest dog in 
 Iowa. No decent traveling man will go near him. 
 As a rule, you'll find that merchants will treat you 
 like a gentleman. The best thing you can do is to 
 scratch that old whelp off the list. Of course you 
 know,' said he, giving me advice which I needed very 
 much, 'you'll often run up against a man who is 
 a little sour, but if you sprinkle sugar on him in the 
 right kind of way, you can sweeten him up.' 
 
 "You know how it is, boys, even now, all of us 
 like to give a helping hand to the young fellow who's 
 just starting out. I would almost hand over one 
 of my customers to a young man to give him en- 
 couragement, and so would you. We've all been up 
 against the game ourselves and know how many 
 things the young fellow runs up against to dishearten 
 him. 
 
 "As I think of my early experiences, I recall with 
 a great deal of gratitude in my heart the kind deeds 
 that were done for me when I was the green first- 
 tripper, by the old timers on the road. My new 
 friend took me down the street to one of his cus- 
 
 137 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tomers and made him give me an order. That night 
 I went to bed the happiest boy in Iowa." 
 
 With this one of the boys called a waiter. As 
 we lit our cigars my friend Moore, who was next 
 to tell his story, said, "Well, boys, here's to Our 
 First Experiences." 
 
 138 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 TACTICS IN SELLING. 
 
 THE man on the road is an army officer. His 
 soldiers are his samples. His enemy is his 
 competitor. He fights battles every day. The 
 "spoils of war" is business. 
 
 The traveling man must use tactics just the same 
 as does the general. He may not have at stake the 
 lives of other men and the success of his country; 
 but he does have at stake and every day his own 
 livelihood, a chance for promotion a partnership 
 perhaps and always, the success of his firm. 
 
 Many are the turns the salesman takes to get busi- 
 ness. He must be always ready when his eyes are 
 open, and sometimes in his dreams, to wage war. If 
 he is of the wrong sort, once in a while he will give 
 himself up to sharp practice with his customer; an- 
 other time he will fight shrewdly against his com- 
 petitor. Sometimes he must cajole the man who 
 wishes to do business with him and at the same time, 
 especially when his customer's credit is none too good, 
 make It easy for him to get goods shipped; and, 
 hardest of all, he must get the merchant's attention 
 
 139 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 that he may show him his wares. Get a merchant to 
 looking at your goods and you usually sell a bill. 
 
 In the smoking room of a Pullman one night sat 
 a bunch of the boys who, as is usual with them when 
 they get together, were telling of their experiences. 
 The smoker is the drummer's club-room when he is 
 on a trip. On every train every night are told tales 
 of the road which, if they were put in type, would 
 make a book of compelling interest. The life of 
 the traveling man has such variety, such a change 
 of scene, that a great deal more comes into it than 
 mere buy and sell. Yes, on this night of which I 
 speak, the stories told were about tussles that my 
 friends had had to get business. 
 
 As the train rounded a sharp curve, one of the 
 boys, who was standing, bumped his head against the 
 door post. A New York hat man who saw the 
 "broken bonnet," said, "Your cracked cady reminds 
 me of one time when I sold a bill of goods that 
 pleased me, I believe, more than any other order that 
 I ever took. I was over in the mining district of 
 Michigan. That's a pretty wide open country, you 
 know. My old customer had quit the town. He 
 couldn't make a 'stick' of it somehow. I had been 
 selling him exclusively for so long that I thought I 
 was queered with every other merchant in the town. 
 But the season after my customer Hodges left there, 
 much to my surprise, two men wrote into the house 
 saying they would like to buy my goods. My stuff 
 
 140 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 had always given Hodges' customers satisfaction. 
 After he left, his old customers drifted into other 
 stores and asked for my brand. Now, if you can only 
 get a merchant's customers to asking for a certain 
 brand of goods, you aren't going to have trouble in 
 doing business with him. This is where the whole- 
 sale firm that sells reliable merchandise wins out over 
 the one that does a cut-throat business. Good stuff 
 satisfies and it builds business. 
 
 "Well, when I went into this town I thought I 
 would have easy sailing but I felt a little taken back 
 when I walked down the street and sized up the 
 stores of the merchants who wished to buy my goods. 
 They both looked to me like tid bits. Both of them 
 were new in the town, one of them having moved 
 into Hodges' old starid. I said to myself that I 
 didn't w r ish to do business with either one of these 
 pikers. Til see if I can't go over and square myself 
 with Andrews, the biggest man in town,' I said. 
 'While I've never tried to do business with him, he 
 can't have anything against me. I've always gone 
 over and been a good fellow with him, so I'll see 
 if I can't get him lined up.' 
 
 "Three or four more of the boys had come in with 
 me on the same train. When I went into Andrews' 
 store, two of them were in there. Pretty soon after- 
 wards I heard one of them say : 'Well, Andy, as you 
 want to get away in the morning, I'll fall in after 
 you close up. It'll suit me all the better to do busi- 
 
 141 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 ness with you tonight/ Andrews spoke up and said, 
 'All right, eight o'clock goes.' 
 
 "This man saw that I had come in to see him 
 and, having made his engagement, knew enough to 
 get out of the way. The boys, you know, especially 
 the old timers, are mighty good about this. I don't 
 believe the outsiders anyway know much about the 
 fellowship among us. 
 
 4 The other man who was in the store was out 
 on his first trip. He was selling suspenders. It was 
 then, say, half past five. I joshed with the boys 
 in the store for a few minutes. Andrews, meantime, 
 had gone up to his office to look over his mail and 
 get off some rush letters. The new man, who sold 
 suspenders, was a good fellow but he had lots to 
 learn. He trailed right along after Andrews as if 
 he had been a dog led by a string. He stood around 
 up in the office for a few minutes without having any- 
 thing to say. Had he been an old-timer, you know, 
 he would have made his speech and then moved out 
 of the way. After a few minutes he came down and 
 said to me, That fellow's a tough proposition. I 
 can't get hold of him. I can't find out whether he 
 wants to look at my goods or not. He joshes with 
 me but I can't get him down to say that he will look. 
 I don't know whether I ought to have my trunks 
 brought up and fool with him or not.' 
 
 * 'Let me tell you one thing, my boy,' said I, 'if 
 you want to do business, get your stuff up and dp 
 
 142 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 it quickly. If he doesn't come to look at your goods, 
 bring 'em in. Bring 'em in. Go after him that 
 way.' 
 
 " 'All right, I guess I will,' said he, and out he 
 went. 
 
 u As soon as Andrews came down from his office, 
 I said 'Hello,' but before I could put in a word about 
 business, in came a customer to look at a shirt. Well, 
 sir, that fellow jawed over that four-bit shirt for 
 half an hour. I'd gladly have given him half a 
 dozen dollar-and-a-half shirts if he would only get 
 out of my way and give me a chance to talk business. 
 Just about the time that Andrews wrapped up the 
 shirt, back came the new man again, having had his 
 trunks brought up to the hotel. I knew then that 
 my cake was all dough so I skipped out, saying I 
 would call in after supper. I felt then that, as An- 
 drews was going away the next morning, I wouldn't 
 get a chance at him so, being in the town, I thought 
 the best thing to do was to go over and pick up one 
 of the other fellows who was anxious to buy from me. 
 
 "I went over to see the man, who had taken 
 Hodges' old stand. As soon as I went in he said: 
 'Yes, I want some goods. I have just started in here. 
 I haven't much in the store but I'm doing first rate 
 and am going to stock up. When can I see you? 
 It would suit me a good deal better tonight after 
 eight o'clock than any other time. I haven't put on 
 a clerk yet and am here all alone. If you like, we'll 
 
 143 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 get right at it and take sizes on what stock we have. 
 Then you can get your supper and see me at eight 
 o'clock and I'll be ready for you. I want to buy a 
 pretty fair order. I've had a bully good hat trade 
 this season. I've been sending mail orders into your 
 house must have bought over four hundred dollars 
 from them in the last three months. I s'pose you got 
 credit for it all right.' 
 
 "Well, this was news to me. The house hadn't 
 written me anything about having received the mail 
 orders and I'll say right here, that the firm that 
 doesn't keep their salesmen fully posted about what's 
 going on in his territory makes a great big mistake. 
 If I'd known that this man had been buying so many 
 goods, I wouldn't have overlooked him. As it was, 
 I came very near passing up the town. And I'll tell 
 you another thing : A man never wants to overlook 
 what may seem to him a small bet. This fellow 
 gave me that night over seven hundred dollars a 
 pretty clean bill in hats, you know, and has made me 
 a first-class customer and we have become good 
 friends. 
 
 "But I'm getting a little ahead of my story ! After 
 supper, that night, I dropped into Andrews' store 
 again. The suspender man was still there. He had 
 taken my tip and brought in some of his samples. 
 While Andrews was over at the drygoods side for a 
 few minutes, the suspender man said to me : 
 
 4 4 I don't believe I can sell this fellow. He says 
 
 144 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he wants to buy some suspenders but that mine don't 
 strike him somehow says they're too high prices. 
 I've cut a $2.25 suspender to $1.90 but that doesn't 
 seem to satisfy him, and I'll give you a tip, too 
 you've been so kind to me I heard him say to his 
 buyer that he wasn't going to look you over. He 
 said to let you come around a few times and leave 
 some of your money in the town, and then maybe 
 he'd do business with you. I just thought I'd tell 
 you this so that you'd know how you stood and not 
 lose any time over it.' 
 
 " 'Thank you very much,' I said. Now, this sort 
 of thing, you know, makes you whet your Barlow on 
 your boot leg. I did thank the suspender man for 
 the tip but I made up my mind that I was going to 
 do business with Andrews anyway. You know there's 
 lets more fun shooting quail flying in the brush than 
 to pot-hunt them in a fence corner. 
 
 "After I'd sold my other man that night, I sat 
 down in the office of the hotel. Andrews was still 
 in the sample room, just behind the office, looking 
 over goods. I knew he'd have to pass out that way, 
 so I sat down to wait for him. It was getting pretty 
 late but I knew that he was a night-hawk and if 
 he got interested he would stay up until midnight 
 looking at goods. After a little bit out came An- 
 drews, his buyer and my other traveling man friend. 
 He asked me up with them to have cigars. He was 
 wise. Only that morning we'd had to double up 
 
 145 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 together in a sample room in the last town. We were 
 pretty much crowded but were going to 'divvy' on 
 the space. The boys, you know, are mighty good 
 about this sort of thing; but when I went down the 
 street I learned that my man was out of town I 
 sold only one man in that place. So I went right back 
 up to the sample room and rolled my trunks out of 
 his way so that my friend could have the whole thing 
 to himself. There's no use being a hog, you know. 
 This didn't hurt me any, and it was as much on 
 account of this as anything else that I was asked up to 
 take a cigar where I could get in a word with An- 
 drews. 
 
 "As the clerk was passing out the cigars, Andrews 
 took off his hat. As he dropped it on the cigar case, 
 he rubbed his hand over his head and said, 'Gee! 
 but I've got a headache !' 
 
 "I picked up his hat. Quick as a flash I saw my 
 chance. It was from my competitor's house. I could 
 feel, in a second, that it was a poor one. Getting 
 the brim between my fingers, I said to Andrews, 
 'Why, you shouldn't get the headache by wearing 
 such a good hat as this. Why, this is a splendid 
 piece of goods!' 
 
 "With this, I tore a slit in the brim as easily as if 
 it had been blotting paper. Then I gave the brim 
 a few more turns, ripping it clear off the crown. In 
 a minute or two I tore up the brim and made it look 
 like black pasteboard checkers. 
 
 14-6 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 'The cigars are on me! 5 said Andrews, as every- 
 body around gave him the laugh. 
 
 "I went up to my room soon leaving Andrews that 
 night to wear hb brimless hat. But I knew then 
 that I could get his attention when I wanted it, next 
 morning, about nine o'clock, for my train and his 
 left at 1 1 130. This would give plenty of time to 
 do business with him if we had any business to do, 
 as he was a quick buyer when you got him interested. 
 I went into his store with two hats in my hand. They 
 were good clear Nutrias and just the size that An- 
 drews wore. I'd found this out by looking at his 
 hat the night before. 
 
 " 'I don't want to do any business with you, An- 
 drews,' said I, 'but I'm not such a bad fellow, you 
 know, and I want to square up things with you a lit- 
 tle. Take one of these.' 
 
 "The hats were 'beauts.' Andrews went to the 
 mirror and put on one and then the other. He finally 
 said, 'I guess I'll hang onto the brown one. By 
 Jove, these are daisies, old man!' 
 
 " 'Yes,' said I, striking as quickly as a rattlesnake, 
 'and there are lots more where these came from ! 
 Now, look here, Andrews, you know mighty well that 
 my line of stuff is a lot better than the one that you're 
 buying from. If you think more of the babies of the 
 man you are buying your hats from than you do of 
 your own, stay right here; but if you don't, get Jack, 
 your buyer, and come up with me right now. I'm 
 
 H7 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 going out on the 1 1 130 train.' This line of talk will 
 knock out the friendship argument when nothing else 
 will. 
 
 " 'Guess I'll go you one, old man/ said Andrews. 
 
 u He bought a good sized bill and, as I left him 
 on the train where I changed cars, he said, 'Well, 
 good luck to you. I guess you'd better just duplicate 
 that order I gave you, for my other store.' ' 
 
 "That," spoke up one of the boys, "is what I call 
 salesmanship. You landed the man that didn't want 
 to buy your goods. The new man let him slip off 
 his hook when he really wanted to buy suspenders." 
 
 "I once landed a $3,400 bill up in Wisconsin," 
 said a clothing man as we lighted fresh cigars, "in 
 a funny way. I'd been calling on an old German 
 clothing merchant for a good many years, but I could 
 never get him interested. I went into his store one 
 morning and got the usual stand-off. I asked him 
 if he wouldn't come over and just look at my goods, 
 that I could save him money and give him a prettier 
 line of patterns and neater made stuff than he was 
 buying. 
 
 " 'Ach! Dat's de sonk dey all sink,' said the old 
 German. 'I'm sotisfite mit de line I haf. Sell 'em 
 eesy und maig a goot brofit. Vat's de use uf chanch- 
 ing anyvay, alretty?' 
 
 "I'd been up against this argument so many times 
 with him that I knew there was no use of trying to 
 buck up against it any more, so I started to leave 
 
 148 
 
IN BIG HEADLINES I READ, "GREAT FIRE IN CHICAGO." 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the store. The old man, although he turned me 
 down every time I went there, would always walk 
 with me to the front door and give me a courteous 
 farewell. In came a boy with a Chicago paper just 
 as we were five steps from the door. What do you 
 suppose stared me in the face? In big head lines 
 I read : GREAT FIRE IN CHICAGO in big type. 
 The paper also stated that flames were spreading 
 toward my house. I at once excused myself and went 
 down to the telegraph office to wire my house exactly 
 where I was so that they could let me know what 
 to do. As I passed to the operator the telegram I 
 wrote, he said, Why, Mr. Leonard, I've just sent 
 a boy up to the hotel with a message for you. There 
 he is! Call him back!' The wire was from the 
 house stating, Tire did us only little damage. Keep 
 right on as if nothing had happened.' 
 
 "My samples were all opened up and I had to wait 
 several hours for a train anyway, so an idea struck 
 me. 'I believe I'll fake a telegram and see if I can't 
 work my old German friend with it.' I wrote out 
 a message to myself, 'All garments on the second 
 floor are steam heated. They are really uninjured 
 but we will collect insurance on them. Sell cheap.' 
 
 "Armed with this telegram I walked into the old 
 German's store again. 'Enny noos?' said he. 
 
 " 'Yes; here's a telegram I've just received,' said 
 I, handing over the fake message. 
 
 149 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " 'Sdeam heatet,' said the old man, 'Veil dey gan 
 be bresst oud, nicht? Veil, I look ad your goots.' 
 
 u He dropped in right after dinner. I had laid out 
 on one side of the sample room a line of second 
 floor goods. 
 
 "Among them were a lot of old frocks that the 
 house was very anxious to get rid of. When I got 
 back to the old man's store, he was pacing the floor 
 waiting for me to come. He had on his overcoat 
 ready to go with me. 
 
 " 'Veil,' said he, before giving me a chance to 
 speak, 'I go right down mit you.' 
 
 "He was the craziest buyer I ever saw. It didn't 
 take me more than twenty minutes to sell the 
 $3,400." 
 
 "But how did you get on afterwards?" asked one 
 of the boys. 
 
 "Don't speak of it," said Leonard. "The joke 
 was so good that I gave it away to one of the boys 
 after the bill had been shipped, and do you know, 
 the old man got onto me and returned a big part of 
 the bill. Of course, you know I've never gone near 
 him since. Retribution, I suppose I That cured me 
 of sharp tricks." 
 
 "A sharp game doesn't work out very well when 
 you play it on your customer," spoke up one of the 
 boys who sold bonds, "but it's all right to mislead 
 your competitor once in a while, especially if he tries 
 to find out things from you that he really hasn't any 
 
 150 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 business to know. I was once over in Indiana. I had 
 on me a pretty good line of six per cents. They 
 were issued by a well-to-do little town out West. 
 You know, western bonds are really A-i property, 
 but the people in the East haven't yet got their eyes 
 open to the value of property west of the Rockies. 
 
 "Well; when I reached this town, one of my 
 friends tipped me onto one of my competitors who, 
 he said, was going to be in that same town that after- 
 noon. There were three prospective customers for 
 us and we were both in the habit of going after the 
 same people. Two of them were bankers, one of 
 them was pretty long winded ; the other was a retired 
 grain dealer who lived about a mile out of town. 
 He was the man I really wished to go after. His 
 name was Reidy and he was quite an old gentleman, 
 always looking for a little inside on everything. I 
 didn't wish to waste much time on the bankers before 
 I'd taken a crack at the old man. I knew he'd just 
 cashed in on some other bonds that he had bought 
 from my firm and that he was probably open for an- 
 other deal. I merely went over and shook hands 
 with the bankers. One of them the long winded 
 one asked me if I had a certain bond. I told him 
 I didn't think I had, that I'd 'phone in and find out. 
 I got on the line with my old grain dealer friend 
 and he said he'd be in town right after dinner. I 
 would have gone out to see him but he preferred 
 doing his business in town. By this time I knew 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 my competitor would reach town so I ate dinner early 
 and took chances on his still being in the dining 
 room when Reidy would drive in. I knew that my 
 competitor, if he got into town, would go right after 
 the old gentleman just as quickly as he could. 
 
 "After dinner I sat down out in the public square 
 smoking, and apparently taking the world at ease, 
 but I was fretting inside to beat the band ! My com- 
 petitor saw me from the hotel porch. He came over 
 and shook hands : you know we're always ready to 
 cut each other's throats but we do it with a smile 
 and always put out the glad hand. 
 
 " < Well, Woody,' said he, 'you seem to be taking 
 the world easy. Business must have been good this 
 week.' 
 
 " 'Oh, fair,' I answered, but it had really been 
 rotten for several days. 
 
 " 'Come and eat,' said he. 
 
 " ( No, thanks, I've just been in. I'll see you after. 
 I'll finish my cigar.' 
 
 "My competitor went in to dinner. About the 
 time I knew he was getting along toward pie, I began 
 to squirm. I lighted two or three matches and let 
 them go out before I fired up my cigar. Still no 
 Reidy had shown up. Pretty soon out came my com- 
 petitor over into the park where I was. I knew that 
 if he got his eyes on Reidy I would have to scramble 
 for the old man's coin. So I managed to get him 
 seated with his back toward the direction from which 
 
 152 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Reidy would come to town. The old man always 
 drove a white horse. As I talked to my competitor 
 I kept looking up the road I could see for nearly 
 half a mile for that old white horse. 
 
 " 'Well, have you left anything in town for me, 
 Woody/ said he directly. 
 
 "About that time I saw the old man's horse jog- 
 ging slowly but surely toward us. 
 
 " Well, now, I'll tell you,' I said to him, 'I be- 
 lieve that if you'll go over to the bank just around 
 the corner, you can do some business. I was in there 
 this morning and they asked me for a certain kind 
 of paper that I haven't any left of. If you can 
 scare up something of that kind, I think you can do 
 some business with them there. I'll take you over, 
 if you like.' 
 
 "I didn't want him to turn around because I knew 
 that he, too, would see that old white horse and 
 that I'd never get him to budge an inch until he had 
 spoken with Reidy if he did, and the old horse was 
 coming trot ! trot ! trot ! closer every minute. 
 
 " Well, say, that'll be good of you. I hate to 
 leave you out here all alone resting and doing noth- 
 ing,' said he. 
 
 u 4 Oh, that's all right. Come on,' and with this 
 I took him by the arm in a very friendly manner, 
 keeping his back toward that old white horse, and 
 walked him around the corner to the bank where 
 
 153 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 I knew that he would be out of sight when the old 
 man reached the public square. 
 
 u just as I came around the corner after leaving my 
 competitor Richards in the bank, there came plodding 
 along the old man. Luckily he went down about a 
 block to hitch his horse. I met him as he was coming 
 back and carried him up to my room in the hotel. I 
 laid my proposition before him and he said: 
 
 " 'Well, that looks pretty good to me, but I'd like 
 to go over here to the bank and talk to one of my 
 friends there and see what he thinks of the lay-out.' 
 
 " Which bank?' thought I. Well, as luck would 
 have it, it was the other bank. 'Very well,' I said, 
 Til drop over there myself in a few minutes and 
 have the papers all with me. We can fix the matter 
 up over there. I'm sure the people in the bank will 
 give this their hearty endorsement.' 
 
 "As the old man walked across the park, two or 
 three people met him and stopped him. My heart 
 was thumping away because, even though the banker 
 around the corner was long winded, it was about time 
 for him to get through with Richards; but the old 
 man went into the bank all right before Richards 
 came out. Then I went over and sat down in the 
 park. In a few minutes Richards came over where 
 I was. 
 
 " 'Say, that was a good tip you gave me, Woody, 
 I think I'll be able to do some business all right. I 
 want to run into the hotel a few minutes, if you'll ex- 
 
 154 
 
'WELL, WOODY." SAID HE, 'YOU SEEM TO BE TAKING THE 
 WORLD PRETTY EASY." 
 
Of T 
 
 VNIYERSIT 
 
 or 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 cuse me, and get into my grip. Say; but you're tak- 
 ing things easy ! I wish I could get along as well as 
 you do without worrying.' 
 
 " Richards left me and went into the hotel. I 
 wanted to get him off as quickly as I could because 
 I didn't know but that, any minute, the old gentleman 
 would come out of the bank door. I hit a pretty 
 lively pace to get in where he was. By that time, 
 he had investigated my bonds and found that he 
 wanted them. I took his check and gave him a re- 
 ceipt for it, and then walked with him over to where 
 his horse was. I wanted to get him out of town as 
 quickly as I could and keep my competitor from see- 
 ing him, if possible. 
 
 "Well, sir, everything worked smooth as a charm. 
 As the old man's buggy was just crossing the bridge, 
 out came Richards from the hotel. I was again sit- 
 ting in the park. 
 
 4 'Heavens ! you're taking it easy,' said he to me. 
 'How is it the firm can afford to pay you to go around 
 these towns, sit in parks and smoke cigars, Woody?' 
 
 " 'Oh, a man has to take a lay-off once in a while,' 
 said I. 
 
 "I went over to the bank where the old man had 
 been, and in a few minutes sold them some bonds. 
 Then I came out and again sat down in the park a 
 few minutes, waiting for Richards to get through so 
 that I could go and see the other people where he was 
 dickering. Pretty soon he came out and he was swear- 
 
 155 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 ing mad. He said, Tve been wrangling with these 
 people for a couple of hours and I can't get them into 
 anything to save my life. I might just as well have 
 been out here with you all this time, taking the world 
 easy, for all the good I've done.' 
 
 " Well, I guess I'll go over and take a crack at 
 them again/ said I. 
 
 " 'All right. Go ahead. I guess Til skip the 
 town,' but he didn't do a thing but get on the trolley 
 which passed out by old man Reidy's house, where he 
 was, of course, too late. I went in where he had not 
 been able to do business, and, now that my mind was 
 easy, I took plenty of time and made a nice sale in 
 there, too. 
 
 "About a week afterwards I met Richards, and he 
 said, 'Well, Woody, you've got one coming on me. 
 You weren't so idle as I thought all the time you were 
 out there in the park.' ' 
 
 "First call for dinner in the dining car," drawled 
 out the white-aproned darkey as Woody finished his 
 story. 
 
 "Boys, shall we all go in?" said Woody. 
 
 "I'm not very hungry," spoke up Leonard, "I took 
 luncheon pretty late today. I think I'll wait a little 
 bit unless you all are in a hurry." 
 
 "You know what you were telling me about run- 
 ning your competitor into a bank around the corner," 
 spoke up a necktie man, "goes to show this: That 
 you must have a man's attention before you can do 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 business with him. I really believe that ypur friend, 
 Woody, would have done business if he hadn't struck 
 his man at the busy time of day. I know that I can 
 usually do business if I get a man when his mind 
 is easy and I can get him to look at my goods. 
 
 "But I bumped into the hardest proposition the 
 other day that I've put my shoulder against for a 
 long time. There's a merchant that I call on, over 
 near Duluth, that is the hardest man to get into a 
 sample room I ever saw. I have been calling on him 
 for several seasons but I couldn't get him away from 
 the store. Once he had a clerk that stole from him 
 and after he got onto this fellow he never leaves the 
 store unless one of his own sons is right there to 
 take his place. Even then, he doesn't like to go out, 
 and he only does so to run up home and back right 
 quickly for a bite to eat. I had sold him a few little 
 jags by lugging stuff in and was getting tired of this 
 sort of business. I wanted either to get a decent 
 order or quit him cold. It is all very good, you 
 know, to send in one or two little jags from a new 
 man, but the house kicks and thinks you are n. g. 
 if you keep on piking with the same man. 
 
 "This time, I went into his store and said to my- 
 self, 'Well, if I can't get this old codger to go down 
 to my sample room, I'm not going to do any busi- 
 ness with him at all.' 
 
 "When I went into his store I shook hands with 
 
 157 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 him and offered him a cigar. He said, 'Veil, I vont 
 smoke dis now. I lay it avay.' 
 
 "If there is anything on earth that makes me mad 
 it is to offer a cigar to a merchant or a clerk who, 
 in truth, doesn't smoke, and have him put it aside and 
 hand it to somebody else after I have left town; but, 
 you know, you bump into that kind once in a while. 
 
 "The old man was back in the office. He shook 
 hands pretty friendly, and said, 'How's peezness?' 
 
 " 'Best ever,' said I. It's always a good thing to 
 be cheerful. All traveling men who go around the 
 country saying that business is poor ought to be 
 knocked in the head. Even if they are not doing 
 a great deal, they should at least say, even in the 
 dullest of times, that business might be a 'lot worse.' 
 It's these croakers on the road who really make busi- 
 ness dull when there is every reason for it to be good. 
 I never kick and I don't think any up-to-date man 
 will. 
 
 "Well, sir, when the old man had asked me how 
 business was and I'd told him that it was strictly 
 good, I went right square at him. I said: 'Now, 
 look here, Brother Mondheimer, I have been selling 
 you a few goods right along and you've told me that 
 they were satisfactory, but I haven't been doing 
 either myself or you justice. I want you, this time, 
 to come right down with me and see what a line of 
 goods I really have. My stuff is strictly swell. The 
 patterns are up-to-date and I've styles enough to line 
 
 158 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the whole side of your house. Now, don't let me 
 run in with just a handful of samples and sell you a 
 little stuff, but come down and give me a square 
 chance at a decent order.' 
 
 " 'Dot's all ride,' said he, 'but I can't get avay. 
 I must stay hier. Ven cost'mers com in, somebody 
 must be hier to vait on 'em.' 
 
 " 'That's all right,' said I, 'but all your clerks are 
 idle now. There isn't a customer in the store. 
 Things are quiet just now. Suppose you come on 
 down with me.' 
 
 " 'No, I can't do dot,' said the old man. 'I'd like 
 to but I can't. Von't you breeng op a leedle stoff ?' 
 
 "I didn't answer his question directly, but I said, 
 'Now, look here, Brother Mondheimer, suppose a 
 man were to come into your store and want to buy 
 a good suit of clothes. How much profit would you 
 make ?' 
 
 " 'Aboud fife tollars,' said he. 
 
 'Well, how long would you, yourself, spend on 
 that man, trying to make a sale with him?' 
 
 'Veil, I vood nod led him go until I solt him,' 
 said he. 
 
 " 'All right, by the way ', said I. 'Can you 
 give me two tens for a twenty ?' 
 
 "He handed me out two ten dollar gold pieces. 
 
 " 'Here' said I, slapping down one of the slugs 
 and shoving it over to him, 'Here's ten dollars for 
 ten minutes of your time. That's yours now, take 
 
 159 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 it! IVe bought your time and I dare you come 
 down to my sample room. If you do, I'll make that 
 ten back in less than ten minutes and you'll stay with 
 me an hour and buy a decent bill of goods.' 
 
 "Well, sir, the old man wouldn't take the ten 
 but he did get his hat and he's been an easy customer 
 ever since !" 
 
 "Second and last call for dinner," called the dining 
 car boy again. 
 
 "Guess this is our last chance," spoke up one of 
 the boys. Then, stretching a little, we washed our 
 hands and went in to dinner. 
 
 1 60 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TACTICS IN SELLING. 
 II. 
 
 AFTER we had finished dinner, all of the party 
 came back to our "road club room," the 
 smoker. 
 
 u The house," said the furnishing goods man, sail- 
 ing on our old tack of conversation, "sometimes 
 makes it hard for us, you know. I once had a case 
 like this: One of my customers down in New Or- 
 leans had failed on me. I think his muhulla ( failure) 
 was forced upon him. Even a tricky merchant does 
 not bring failure upon himself if business is good and 
 he can help it, because, if he has ever been through 
 one, he knows that the bust-up does him a great deal 
 more harm than good. It makes 'credit' hard for 
 him after that. But, you find lots of merchants who, 
 when business gets dull, and they must fail, will 
 either skin their creditors completely or else settle 
 for as few cents on the dollar as possible. 
 
 "Well, I had a man in market, once, when I was 
 traveling out of Philadelphia, who had 'settled' for 
 35 cents on the dollar. He had come out of his 
 
 161 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 failure with enough to leave him able to go into 
 business again, and, with anything like fair trade, dis- 
 count all his bills. I knew the season was a fairly 
 good one and felt quite sure that, for a few years 
 anyway, my man would be good. What was lost on 
 him was lost, and that was the end of it. The best 
 way to play even was on the profits of future busi- 
 ness. 
 
 u But our credit man, a most upright gentleman, 
 wasn't particular about taking up the account again. 
 However, there I was on a commission basis! I 
 knew the man would pay for his goods and that it 
 was money in my pocket and in the till of the house 
 to sell it. 
 
 "I had seen my man at the hotel the evening before 
 and he'd said he would be around the next morning 
 about ten o'clock. I went down to the store before 
 that time and talked the thing over with the credit 
 man. 
 
 1 'Don't want to have anything to do with that 
 fellow,' he said. 'He skinned us once and it's only 
 a matter of time until he'll do it again.' 
 
 "The head man of the firm came by about that 
 time and I talked it over with him. He had told 
 me only the day before that he had some 'jobs' he was 
 very anxious to get rid of. 
 
 ' 'Now,' said I to him, 'I believe I have a man 
 from New Orleans who can use a good deal of that 
 plunder up on the sixth floor if you're willing to sell 
 
 162 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 it to him. He uses that kind of "Drek" and is 
 now shaped up so that he'll not wish for more than 
 sixty day terms, and I'm sure he'd be able to pay 
 for it. He's just failed, you know.' 
 
 "Well, let him have it let him have it,' said the 
 old man. 'Anything to get the stuff out of the house. 
 If he doesn't pay for it we won't lose much.' 
 
 " 'All right, if you both say so, I'll go ahead and 
 sell him.' 
 
 "This was really building a credit on 'jobs,' for I 
 believed that my man would after that prove a faith- 
 ful customer, and this has been the case for many 
 years. 
 
 "Well, when he came in, I took him up to the 'job' 
 floor and sold him about five hundred dollars. This 
 was the limit that the credit man had placed on the 
 account. Then came the rub. I had to smooth down 
 my customer to sixty day terms and yet keep him in 
 a good humor. He thought a great deal of me 
 I had always been square with him and he wasn't 
 such a bad fellow. He had merely done what many 
 other men would have done under the same circum- 
 stances. When he had got into the hole, he was 
 going to climb out with as many 'rocks' in his pocket 
 as he could. He couldn't pay a hundred cents and 
 keep doing business, and it was just as much disgrace 
 to settle for sixty cents on the dollar, which would 
 leave him flat, as it was to settle for thirty-five. So 
 he argued ! 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "I brought him up to the credit window and said 
 to the credit man Gee ! I had to be diplomatic 
 then 'Now, this is Mr. Man from New Orleans. 
 You know that cotton has been pretty low for the 
 past season and that he has had a little, misfortune 
 that often comes into the path of the business man. 
 He, you also know, has squared this with everybody 
 concerned in an honorable way, although on ac- 
 count of the dull times he was unable to make as large 
 a settlement as he wished to isn't that the case, 
 Joe ?' said I. He nodded. 
 
 u 'Yes, but things are picking up with me, you 
 know,' said he. 
 
 " 'Yes; so they are,' said I, taking up the thread, 
 'cotton is advancing and times are going to be pretty 
 good down in the south next season. Now, what I've 
 done,' said I to the credit man, as if I had never 
 spoken to him about the matetr before, 'is this : Joe, 
 here, has learned a lesson. He has seen the folly, 
 and suffered for it, of buying so many goods so far 
 ahead. What he aims to do from this time on is 
 to run a strictly cash business, and to buy his goods 
 for cash or on very short terms. We have picked out 
 five hundred dollars' worth of goods I've closed 
 them pretty cheap and you shall have your money 
 for this, the bill fully discounted, within sixty days. 
 Then in future, Joe, here, does not wish to buy any- 
 thing from you or anybody else that he cannot pay 
 
 164 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 for within that time. One bump on the head is 
 enough, eh, Joe?' 
 
 " 'Yes; you bet your life. I've learned a lesson.' 
 
 " 'That'll be very satisfactory, sir,' said the credit 
 man, and everything was O. K. You see, I had put 
 the credit man in the position of making short terms 
 and I had tickled Joe and given him something that 
 he needed very badly at that time credit. This was 
 about the smoothest job I think I ever did. I really 
 don't believe that either the credit man or my cus- 
 tomer was fully onto my work. Joe, however, has 
 thanked me for that many a time since. He's paid 
 up my house promptly and used them for reference. 
 They could only tell the truth in the matter, that he 
 was discounting his bills with them. This has given 
 him credit and he's doing a thriving business now, 
 and has been for several years. He is getting long 
 time again from other houses." 
 
 "Smooth work all right," said one of the boys, 
 touching the button for the buffet porter. 
 
 "Once in a while," said the book man, "you have 
 to pull the wool over a buyer's eyes. I never like 
 to do anything of this sort, and I never do but that 
 I tell them about it afterwards. The straight path is 
 the one for the traveling man to walk in, I know; 
 but once, with one of my men, I had to get off of 
 the pebbles and tread on the grass a little. 
 
 "We really sell our publications for less than any 
 other concern in the country. We give fifty off, 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 straight, to save figuring, while many others give 
 40-10-5, which, added up, makes 55, but, in truth, is 
 less than fifty straight. Once, in Chicago, I fell in on 
 a department store man. I put it up to him and 
 asked him if he would like certain new books that 
 were having a good sale. 
 
 " 'Yes,' he said, 'but I tell you, John (he knew 
 me pretty well), I can't stand your discounts. You 
 don't let me make enough money. You only give 
 me 50 while others give me 40-10-5.' 
 
 " 'All right, I'll sell them to you that way,' said I. 
 4 We won't worry about it.' 
 
 'Very good then,' and he gave me his order. 
 
 "Next season, when I got around to him, I had 
 forgotten all about the special terms that I had made 
 this man. But after he said he would use a certain 
 number of copies of a book, he jogged my memory 
 on that score with the question: 
 
 'What sort of terms are you going to give me 
 the same I had last year?' 
 
 " 'No, sir; I will not,' said I. 'I'm not going to 
 do business with you that way.' 
 
 " 'Well, if you've done it once, why don't you do 
 it again? Other people do it right along, and your 
 house is still in business. They haven't gone broke.' 
 'Yes, you bet your life they're still in business!' 
 said I, 'and they'd make a whole lot more money 
 than they do now if they'd do business on the terms 
 that you ask. Do you know what I did? You 
 
 166 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 wouldn't let me have things my way and be square 
 with you, so I skinned you on that little express order 
 out of just ninety cents, and did it just to teach you 
 a lesson P I said, planking down a dollar. 'I don't 
 want to trim you too close to the bone.' 
 
 ;< 'Well,' said he, after I'd figured out and shown 
 him the difference between 50 off straight and 40- 
 10-5, 'This dollar doesn't belong to me. Come on, 
 let's spend it.' " 
 
 "That's pretty good," chimed in the shoe man, 
 who was sitting on a camp stool. The smoking com- 
 partment was full. "But it was dangerous play, don't 
 you think? Suppose he'd done that figuring before 
 you'd got around and shown him voluntarily that you 
 skinned him and why. I know one of my customers, 
 at any rate, who would have turned you down for 
 good on this sort of a deal. He is a fair, square, 
 frank man most merchants, I find, are that way 
 anyhow." 
 
 "Yes; you're right," said John. 
 
 "I got at the man I speak of this way," said the 
 shoe man. "I had called on him many times. He 
 was such a thoroughbred gentleman and treated me 
 so courteously that I could never press matters upon 
 him. There are merchants, you know, of this kind. 
 I'd really rather have a man spar me with bare 
 'knucks' than with eight-ounce pillows. This gives 
 you a better chance to land a knock-out blow. But 
 
 167 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 there is a way of getting at every merchant in the 
 world. The thing to do is to find the way. 
 
 a As I stood talking to this gentleman it was out 
 in Seattle in came a Salvation Army girl selling 
 The War Cry.' When she came around where I 
 was, my merchant friend gave her a quarter for one, 
 and told her to keep the change. Do you know, I 
 sized him up from that. It showed me just as plain 
 as day that he was kind hearted and it struck me, 
 quick as a flash, that my play was generosity. People 
 somehow who are free at heart admire this trait in 
 others. When a man has once been liberal and knows 
 what a good feeling it gives him on the inside, to do 
 a good turn for some poor devil that needs it, he 
 will always keep it up, and he has a soft spot in his 
 heart for the man who will dig up for charity. 
 
 ."I didn't plank down my money with any attempt 
 to make a show, but I simply slipped a dollar into the 
 Salvation Army Captain's hand, and said, 'Sister, the 
 War Cry is worth that much to me. I always read it 
 and I'm really very glad you brought this copy around 
 to me.' 
 
 "Now, this wasn't altogether play, boys, you know. 
 If there is any one in the world who is a true and 
 literal Christian, it is the girl who wears the Salvation 
 Army bonnet. And to just give your money isn't 
 always the thing. A little kind word to go along 
 with it multiplies the gift. 
 
 "After a while, when I got around to it I talked 
 
 168 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 with the merchant for some time about various things 
 I said, as politely as I could: 'Now, you know 
 your affairs a great deal better than I do myself, but 
 it is barely possible that I might have something in 
 my line that would interest you. My house is old 
 established and they do business in a straightforward 
 manner. If you can spare the time, I should be very 
 glad indeed to have you see what I am carrying. I 
 assure you that I shall not bore you in the sample 
 room. I never do this because I don't like to have 
 any one feel I'm attempting to know more of his 
 affairs than he does.' 
 
 " 'If such were the case/ said my merchant friend, 
 'why, then, I ought to sell out to you.' 
 
 " 'Then you are right,' said I. 'Nothing bothers 
 me more, on going into a barber shop when I'm in a 
 rush and wish nothing but a shave, than to have the 
 barber insist on cutting my hair, singing it, giving 
 me a shampoo, and a face massage.' 
 
 " 'Well, I don't think I'm needing anything just 
 now,' said my merchant friend. 'But as you're here, 
 I'll run down and see you right after luncheon. 'No,' 
 said he, pulling out his watch, 'I might as well go 
 with you right now. It is half past eleven and that 
 will give you all the afternoon free.' 
 
 " 'Very well,' said I, 'this is kind of you. I am 
 at your service.' 
 
 4 'It was considerate of him to go along with me 
 right then, for the time of a traveling man relatively 
 
 169 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 is more valuable than that of any other man I know 
 of. In many lines he must make his living in four 
 to six months in the year. Every minute of daylight, 
 when he is on the road, means to him just twice that 
 time or more ! 
 
 "Do you know, I never had in my sample room 
 a finer man. He very quickly looked over what I 
 had and when he said to me, 'Do you know, I'm 
 really glad that I've come down with you. You have 
 some things that strike me. I hadn't intended putting 
 in any more goods for this season, but here are a 
 few numbers that Fm sure I can use. I can't give 
 you a very large order. However, if you're willing 
 to take what I wish, I shall be very glad to give you 
 a small one; but if your goods turn out all right, and 
 this I have no right to question, we shall do more 
 business in future.' 
 
 "I took the order, which wasn't such a small one, 
 either, and from that time on he has always been a 
 pleasant customer. He was a gentleman-merchant!" 
 
 "He's the kind that always gets the best that's 
 coming," broke in two or three of the boys at once. 
 
 "Yes, you bet your life!" exclaimed the shoe man. 
 "If a man wishes to get the best I have, that is the 
 way I like him to come at me. To be sure, I do 
 a one price business; but even then, you know, we can 
 all do a man a good turn if he makes us have an 
 interest in his business by treating us courteously. 
 
 170 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 We can serve him by helping him select the best 
 things in our lines, and by not overloading him." 
 
 "Many's the way," said the dry goods man, "that 
 we have of getting a man's ear. In '96 I was 
 traveling in Western Nebraska. That state, you 
 know, is Bryan's home. Things were mighty hot out 
 there in September, and nearly everybody in that part 
 of the country was for him; but when you did strike 
 one that was on the other side, he was there good 
 and hard! Yet, most of those who were against 
 Bryan by the time September rolled around were be- 
 ginning to think that he was going to win out. I 
 had just left Chicago and had been attending a great 
 many Republican political meetings. I had read the 
 Chicago newspapers, all of which were against Bryan 
 that year, and thought that while there was a good 
 deal of hurrah going on, he didn't stand a ghost of 
 a show, and I was willing to bet my money on it. 
 
 "I didn't have a customer in this town. It was 
 Beaver City. You know how the stores are all built 
 around three sides of a public square. I was out 
 scouting for a looker. I dropped into one man's 
 store -he was a Republican, but he said to me, 
 'Heavens alive ! How do you expect me to buy any 
 goods this year? Why, Bryan's going to be elected 
 sure's your born, and this whole country is going to 
 the devil. I'm a Republican and working against 
 -him as hard as I can, but I'm not going to get myself 
 in debt and go broke all the same. 
 
 171 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " 'The only man in this town who thinks Bryan 
 isn't going to win is old man Jarvis across the way. 
 If he keeps on buying and things come out the way I 
 think they will, Til have one less competitor when 
 things all blow over.' 
 
 "I looked in my agency book. As a rule, they're 
 not worth a rap for anything except to give the names 
 of merchants in a town and the sort of business 
 they're in, but when I got down to the J's I saw 
 that Jarvis was rated ten to twenty thousand. I stuck 
 the book in my pocket and made straight for where 
 I saw his name over the door. 
 
 "First thing he boned me about was, 'Well, how's 
 the election going in Illinois and back East?' 
 
 " 'Oh, Bryan will be put under a snow bank so 
 deep he'll never get out,' said I, 'when November 
 gets here.' 
 
 ' 'Good !' said he. 'You're the first man I've seen 
 for a month who's agreed with me. I don't think 
 he'll run one, two, three. These fellows out here 
 in this country are all crazy because Bryan's come 
 from this state; and a few hayseed Populists who've 
 always been Republican heretofore are going to vote 
 for him. Shucks ! They don't amount to anything. 
 It's the East that settles an election, and the working 
 man. Why, they're not going to see this country 
 go to the devil because a few of these crazy Pops out 
 here are going to vote the Democratic ticket !' 
 
 "The druggist from next door, who overheard the 
 
 172 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 old man, spoke up hotly and said, 'Well, I'm one of 
 them crazy Pops you're talking about. You haven't 
 any money that says Bryan's goin' to lose, have you?' 
 
 " 'Well, I'm not a betting man,' said Jarvis, 'but 
 if I was, I'd put up my store against yours, the 
 building and all against your stock.' 
 
 " 'Well, I wish you were a betting man,' said the 
 druggist. 'You'd better either put up or shut up. 
 I'll jest bet you ten dollars even that Bryan does 
 
 win.' 
 
 ' Til take that bet, my friend,' said I, knowing 
 that the effect of the wager on Jarvis would be worth 
 more than the bet itself. I reached for my roll of 
 expense money I had about two hundred dollars on 
 me and slipped out a 'tenner.' The druggist went 
 in next door and got his money. The old man held 
 the stakes. 
 
 "I was the only man who'd been in that town for 
 a long time who was willing to bet on McKinley, and 
 pretty soon a dozen fellows were after me. In about 
 twenty minutes I had put up all I had, and went over 
 to the bank and drew a couple of hundred more. I 
 drew it on personal account as I had plenty of money 
 coming to me from the firm. Soon a couple of fel- 
 lows came in who wanted to put up a hundred each. 
 I covered their piles, went back to the bank and made 
 another draft in all, I planked up five hundred dol- 
 lars before leaving town. Jarvis was my stake 
 holder. 
 
 173 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " 'Say,' said he, 'young fellow, I've never done any 
 business with you, but, by Heavens ! I like your pluck, 
 and I'm going right over to your sample room 
 whether you ask me to or not and give you an order. 
 This is the best time for me to buy goods. All these 
 other fellows around here are croaking about the 
 election and they're not going to have anything to sell 
 these people. Shoes are going to wear out and the 
 sun is going to fade calico, Bryan or no Bryan! I 
 want some goods on my shelves. Come on, let's go 
 now before it gets dark!' 
 
 "I never sold a bill so easy in my life. The old 
 man would pick up a bundle of sample cards and 
 say, 'Here, you send me about what you think I ought 
 to have out of this lot,' and while I was writing down 
 the items, he would talk politics. I sold him a 
 nailer." 
 
 "Well, you had pretty good luck in that town," 
 spoke up one of the boys, u to get a good bill arid 
 also win five hundred dollars." 
 
 "Didn't win it, though," said the dry goods man. 
 
 "Well, how's that? Didn't McKinley win the 
 election? You were betting on him." 
 
 "Yes, but I got back to Chicago about the time 
 that Bryan struck there. I went down to the old 
 shack on the lake front where the Post Office now is, 
 and heard Bryan speak to the business men. It 
 looked to me like the whole house was with him. I 
 heard a dozen men around where I sat say, after the 
 
 174 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 speech was over, that they had intended to vote 
 against him, but that they were sure going to vote for 
 Bryan. That same day I hedged on my five hun- 
 dred." 
 
 "Well, you got a good customer out cf the deal' 
 anyhow." 
 
 "Yes, I did; but I thought I'd lost him. After 
 the election he sent me the thousand and I went down 
 to see him. You know I voted for Bryan." 
 
 "Changed your mind, did you?" 
 
 "Change? Did you ever hear Bryan speak? 
 When I met the old man I made a clean breast of it, 
 and said, Tm mighty sorry to tell you, but I voted 
 for Bryan.' 
 
 " Well, that's all right,' he said. 'So did I. 1 
 
s 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TACTICS IN SELLING. 
 
 III. 
 GETTING A MERCHANT'S ATTENTION. 
 
 EVEN AND NINE," said the porter, poking his 
 head into the Pullman smoker, "are all made 
 down." 
 
 With this, a couple of the boys bade us goodnight 
 and turned in, but soon two more drifted in and 
 took their places. 
 
 "Getting a merchant's attention," said the furnish- 
 ing goods man, "is the main thing. You may get 
 a man to answer your questions in a sort of a way 
 but you really do not have his attention always when 
 he talks to you. You would better not call on a 
 man at all than go at him in a listless sort of a way. 
 This is where the old timer has the bulge over the 
 new man. I once knew a man who had been a suc- 
 cessful clerk for many years who started on the road 
 with a line of pants. He had worked for one of my 
 old customers. I chanced to meet him, when I was 
 starting on my trip, at the very time when he was 
 making his maiden effort at selling a bill to the man 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 for whom he had been working. Of course this was 
 a push-over for him because his old employer gave 
 him an order as a compliment. 
 
 "Well, sir, when that fellow learned that I was 
 going West this was on the Northern Pacific he 
 hung right on to me and said he would like to go 
 along. Of course, I told him I should be very glad 
 to have him do so, and that I would do for him 
 whatever I could. But here he made a mistake. 
 When a man starts out on the road he must paddle 
 his own canoe. It is about as much as his friend 
 can do to sell his own line of goods, much less to put 
 in a boost for somebody else. And, furthermore, a 
 man who takes a young chick under his wing will 
 often cut off some of his own feed. Still, this fellow 
 had always been very friendly with me and I told 
 him, 'Why, to be sure, Henry; come right along 
 with me.' 
 
 "In the second and third towns that we made, he 
 picked up a couple of small bills that just about paid 
 his expenses. He was just beginning to find that the 
 road was not such an easy path to travel as, in his. 
 own mind, he had cracked it up to be. 
 
 "The next town we struck was Bismarck, North 
 Dakota. We got in there about three o'clock in the 
 morning. It was Thanksgiving Day. To be sure, 
 I went to bed and had a good sleep. A man must 
 always feel fresh, you know, if he expects to do 
 any work. 
 
 177 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "It was about eleven o'clock before I breakfasted, 
 opened up, and started across the street. My old 
 customer had burned out there and I, too, had to go 
 out and rustle some man. Just as I started over 
 toward town, I met my German friend Henry coming 
 back. His face looked like a full moon shining 
 through a cloud. I could see that there was trouble 
 on his mind. 
 
 " 'Well, Henry, how goes it?' said I. 
 
 " 'Id don't go so goot,' said he. 'But vat can a 
 man expect on Danksgifing? I vent to see von man 
 and he said, "I haf an olt house dat alvays dreats 
 me right, so vat's de use of chanching?" Veil, vat 
 archument could I make against dot? I vent in to 
 see anodder man and he said, "I haf an olt friend dot 
 I buy from," and vat archument could I make against 
 dot? I vent in to see still anodder, and he said, "I 
 haf just bought," so, vat archument could I make 
 against dot? The next man I vent to see said, "Mein 
 Gott, man; don'd you suppose I am going to rest von 
 day in de year? So I t'ought dere vas no use fool- 
 ing mit him, so I t'ink I vill pack op and eat a goot 
 dinner and take a goot nap and go vest again in de 
 morning.' 
 
 " 'All right, Henry,' said I; 'but I guess I'll go 
 over and try my luck.' 
 
 "The first man that I went to see was the one 
 who had said to my friend Henry that he thought he 
 ought to have one day in the year to rest. He was 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the biggest merchant in the town in my line. When 
 I reached his store he was putting the key in the door 
 to lock up and go home for his Thanksgiving dinner. 
 
 "I couldn't talk to him out there in the cold we 
 were strangers so I said to him, 'I should like to buy 
 a couple of collars if you please.' He sold me the 
 collars and then, just for a bluff, I made out that 
 mine was hurting me and took a few minutes to put 
 on another one. I didn't say anything about what 
 my business was and the merchant, in order to have 
 something to say, asked, 'Are you & stranger in 
 town ?' 
 
 " 'Yes, sir,' said I, 'I am. But I hope that I shall 
 not be very much longer. I am out looking for a 
 location.' 
 
 " 'You are a physician, then?' said the merchant. 
 
 "'Yes, sir, in a way,' said I; 'but I treat dis- 
 eases in rather a peculiar way, I fancy. I believe 
 in going down to the cause of diseases and treating 
 the cause rather than the disease itself. My specialty 
 is the eye. Now, you see, if the eye looks at bright, 
 sparkling snow, it is strained; but if it looks at a 
 green pasture, that color rests it. In fact, if the eye 
 looks upon anything that is not pleasing to it, it does 
 it an injury. Now, my way of getting down to the 
 root of all this eye trouble is to place before it things 
 that are pleasing to look upon, and in this way, make 
 eye salves and things of that kind unnecessary. In 
 just a word/ said I (I had his attention completely), 
 
 179 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 'I am selling the prettiest, nobbiest, most up-to-date 
 line of furnishing goods there is on the road. They 
 are so attractive that they are good for sore eyes. 
 Now, the only way I can back up this statement is 
 by showing you what I have. When will it suit you 
 to look at them? The location that I am looking 
 for is a location for my goods right here on your 
 shelves/ 
 
 "Well, sir; do you know, that merchant really 
 came down to my sample room on Thanksgiving Day 
 he hardly took time to eat his dinner and I sold 
 him,. 
 
 "I didn't see any more of my friend Henry until 
 the next morning. The train was late and left about 
 seven o'clock. 
 
 4 Veil, what luck yesterday?' said Henry. 
 
 '"As he came up to me in the train where I Was 
 sitting with a friend, I said, 'Well, I sold a bill.' 
 
 "'Who bought of you?' 
 
 " 'The clothing man here.' 
 
 " Tell, dot's de feller,' said Henry, 'dot told me 
 he vas going to haf von day in de year for his family. 
 And you solt him ? Veil, how did you do id ?' 
 
 "I briefly told Henry of my experience. 
 
 " 'Veil, dot vas goot,' said he. 
 
 "My advance agent friend, who had sat beside 
 me Henry had fallen in with us in our double seat 
 said to Henry, 'Now, that's a good line of argu- 
 ment. Why don't you use that sometime?' A 
 
 180 
 

 'YOU'D BETTER WRITE THAT DOWN WITH A PENCIL.' 
 SAID HENRY. 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 twinkle came into my theatrical friend's eye when 
 Henry did, in fact, ask my permission to use this 
 line of talk. I told Henry, 'Why, sure, go on and use 
 that argument anywhere you want to. I shall not 
 use it again because in every town that I shall strike, 
 from this time on, I have an old established customer. 
 I have no use for that argument. Just go and use it.' 
 
 " ' You'd better write that down with a pencil, Hen- 
 ry,' said the advance agent Stanley was his name. 
 
 u 'No, dere's no use ov writing dot down,' said 
 Henry. 'Dot archument vas so clear dot I ha f it in 
 my headt!' 
 
 "But, sure enough, Henry took out his lead pencil 
 and jotted down the points in the back of his order 
 book. In the next town we struck, one of the mer- 
 chants was a gruff old Tartar. He was the first man 
 that Henry lit onto. 
 
 "Now, an old merchant can size up a traveling man 
 very soon after he enters the door. The shoeman 
 will go over to where the shoes are kept ; the hat man 
 will turn his face toward the hat case ; the furnishing 
 goods man will size up the display of neckwear; in 
 fact, a merchant once told me that he could even tell 
 the difference between a clothing man and a pants 
 man. A clothing man will walk up to a table and run 
 his hands over the coats while a pants man will always 
 finger the trousers to a suit. 
 
 "Well, sir, when Henry walked into this gruff old 
 merchant's store, he found him busy waiting on a cus- 
 
 181 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tomer so up he marched to a clothing table and began 
 to feel of a pile of pants. After the customer went 
 out he went up to the old man and said to him, 'Goot 
 morning, sir. I am a physician, sir, and I am looking 
 for a legation * 
 
 'You are no such a thing/ said the old 
 
 man. 'You are selling pants.' 
 
 "Henry told me of this experience when he came 
 back to the hotel and he was so broken hearted that 
 he almost felt like going back home. In fact, he 
 didn't last more than about three weeks. He had 
 started too late in life to learn the arts of the traveling 
 
 man." 
 
 u You bet," said the wall paper man who had heard 
 this story. "Attention is the whole cheese. I know 
 I once tried my hardest to get hold of an old Irish- 
 man down in Texas. He was a jolly old chap but 
 I couldn't get next. There wasn't any sample room 
 in the town and if I showed my goods to any one, I 
 would have to get his consent to let me bring my stuff 
 into his store. When I struck old Murphy to let me 
 bring my goods in, he gave me a stand-off so hard 
 that another one of the boys who was in the store 
 gave me the laugh. This riled me a little and I said 
 to my friend who thought he had the joke on me, 'I 
 am going to sell that old duck just the same.' Til 
 bet a new hat you don't,' said he. Something flashed 
 across me somehow or other. I got bold and I said, 
 'I'll just take that bet.' 
 
 182 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "I had to wait in town anyway for several hours 
 so that I couldn't get out until after supper. So 
 I went up to the hotel for dinner. That afternoon 
 I went back to Murphy's store, pulled out a cigar 
 case and, passing it over to the old gentleman, said, 
 'Take one, neighbor. These are out of my private 
 box.' It was really a good cigar and the old man, giv- 
 ing me a little blarney, said, 'Surre, that cigare is a 
 birrd.' Tm glad you like it,' said I. 'I have those 
 sent me from Chicago, a fresh box every week. If you 
 like it so well, here, take a couple more. I have lots 
 of them in my grip.' I laid a couple on the old man's 
 desk and he didn't object. 
 
 " 'Now, Mr. Murphy,' said I, 'I know you don't 
 wish to look at any of my goods whatsoever, and I'm 
 not the man to ask you the second time. In fact, I am 
 really glad you don't wish to buy some goods from 
 me because it gives me a chance to run through my 
 samples. I've been aiming to do some work on them 
 for several days but really haven't had the time I've 
 been so busy. But, as there's nobody else here in the 
 town that I care to see (a mild dose of "smoosh," 
 given at the right time and in the right way, never 
 does any harm, you know) and as there's no sample 
 room here I'm sure you'll allow me to have my trunk 
 thrown in your store where I shall not be in your 
 way. I wish to rid myself of "outs." 
 
 ' 'Surre, me b'y; surre me b'y,' said the old man. 
 'Toike all the room you will but ye know Oime not 
 
 183 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 for lookin' at your goods. Oime waitin' fer a friend, 
 ye know.' 
 
 " 'Very well, thank you; I promise you faithfully, 
 Mr. Murphy, that I'll not show you any goods. I 
 merely wish to get rid of my "tear-outs" and straight- 
 en up my line.' 
 
 u \Vhen the drayman dumped my trunk into the 
 back end of the store, I opened up on the counter and 
 tore off several 'outs.' I let my samples lie there and 
 went up the street, but came back several times and 
 peeped into the front window to see what the old man 
 was doing. I did this three or four times and finally 
 I saw him and one of the clerks back where my sam- 
 ples were, fingering them over. 
 
 "Then I went around to the back door, which was 
 near where my samples were, marched right in and 
 caught the old man in the act." 
 
 u Sell him?" spoke up one of the boys. 
 
 "Sure," said the wall paper man, "and I made the 
 man who had lost the hat come down and buy one for 
 me from the old Irishman." 
 
 "Well, that was a clever sale," said the hat man, 
 "but you have, you know, as much trouble sometimes 
 holding an old customer in line as you do in selling a 
 new one. For my own part, whenever a customer gets 
 clear off the hook, I let him swim. You have a great 
 deal better luck casting your fly for new fish than you 
 do in throwing your bait for one that has got away 
 from you. My rule is, when a man is gone let him 
 
 184 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 go. But, as long as I have him on the hook, I am 
 going to play him. 
 
 "When I was down in New Orleans a few seasons 
 ago, one of my old customers said, 'Look here, I don't 
 see any use of buying goods from you. I can buy 
 them right home just as cheaply as you sell them to 
 me, and save the freight. This freight item amounts 
 to a good deal in the course of a year. See, here is a 
 stiff hat that I buy for twenty-four dollars a dozen 
 that is just as good as the one that you are selling me 
 for the same money. Look at it.' He passed it over 
 to me. I rubbed my hand over the crown and quickly 
 I rapped the derby over my fist knocking the crown 
 clean off it. I threw the rim onto the floor and didn't 
 say a word. This play cost me a new hat but it was 
 the best way I could answer my customer's argument. 
 After that, my customer was as gentle as a dove. He 
 afterwards admitted that he liked my goods better 
 but that he was trying to work me for the difference in 
 freight." 
 
 u The clerk can always give you a good many 
 straight tips," spoke up one of the boys. 
 
 "Yes, and you bet your life he does his best to 
 queer you once in a while, too!" said the clothing 
 man. "I know I had a tough tussle with one not a 
 great while ago down in Pittsburg. Last season I 
 placed a small bunch of stuff in a big store there. I 
 had been late in getting around but the merchant 
 liked my samples and told me that if the goods deliv- 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 ered turned out all right he would give me good busi- 
 ness this season. 
 
 "Now, my house delivers right up to sample. A 
 great many houses do not, and so merchants go not 
 on the samples they look at but according to the goods 
 delivered to them. It is the house that delivers good 
 merchandise that holds its business, not the one that 
 shows bright samples on the road and ships poor stuff. 
 
 "I went up to my man's store this was just a few 
 weeks ago and asked him to come over with me. 
 
 " 'My head clothing man,' said my customer, 'does 
 not like your stuff. I might as well be frank with 
 you about it.' 'What objection has he to it?' said I. 
 'He says they don't fit. He says the trimmings and 
 everything are all right and I wish they did fit be- 
 cause your prices look cheap to me.' 'Well, let's 
 go over and see about that,' said I. 'There's no one 
 in the world more willing and anxious to make things 
 right than I am if there is anything wrong.' I didn't 
 know just what I had to go up against. The man 
 on the road gets all the kicks. 
 
 "Once in a while there is a clerk who puts out his 
 hand like the boy who waits on you at table and if 
 pretty good coin is not dropped in it or some favor 
 shown him, he will have it in for you. 
 
 "My customer and I walked over to where the 
 clerk was and I came right out, and said, 'Johnny, 
 what's the matter with this clothing you've received 
 
 186 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 from me? Mr. Green (the merchant) here tells me 
 you say it doesn't fit. Let's see about that.' 
 
 u The clerk was slim and stoop-shouldered. The 
 tailor to his royal highness could not have made a 
 coat hang right on him. 
 
 ' 'Now, you are kicking so much, Johnnie, on my 
 clothing, you go here in this store and pick out some 
 coats your size from other people and let's see how 
 they fit. Let's put this thing to a fair test.' 
 
 'That's square,' said Green. 'If a thing is so, I 
 want to know it; if it isn't, I want to know it.' 
 
 "I slipped onto Johnnie three or four of my com- 
 petitor's coats that he brought and they hung upon 
 him about as well as they would on a scare-crow. 
 
 " 'Now, Johnnie, you are a good boy,' said I, 'but 
 you've been inside so long that the Lord, kind as He 
 is, hasn't built you just right. You are not the man 
 who is to wear this clothing that comes into this store. 
 It is the other fellow. My house does not make cloth- 
 ing for people who are not built right. We take the 
 perfect man as our pattern and build to suit him. 
 There are so many more people in the world who are 
 strong and robust and well proportioned than there 
 are those who are not, that it is a great deal bet- 
 ter to make clothing for the properly built man than 
 for the invalid. Now, I just want to show you how 
 this clothing does fit. You take any coat that you 
 wish. Bring me half a dozen of them if you will 
 one from every line that you bought from me, if you 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 wish. I wear a 38. Bring my size and let's see 
 how they look. If they are not all right, I am the 
 man who, most of all, wishes to know it. I can't 
 afford to go around the country showing good sam- 
 ples and selling poor stuff. If my stuff isn't right, I 
 am going to change houses but I want to tell you 
 that you're the first man on this whole trip that has 
 made a single complaint. Those who bought small 
 bills from me last season are buying good bills from 
 me this time. They have said that my goods give 
 splendid satisfaction. Now, you just simply go, John- 
 nie, and get me ten coats. I sold you ten numbers 
 I remember exactly 120 suits one from every line 
 that you bought, and I want to show you that there 
 isn't a bad fitter in the whole lot.' 
 
 " 'Yes, do that, Johnnie,' said the merchant. 'His 
 stuff looked all right to me when I bought it. I, 
 myself, have not had time to pay much attention to 
 it and I will have to take your word for these things, 
 but, now that the question is up, we'll see about it.' 
 
 u The clerk started to dig out my size but he 
 couldn't find a 38 in but three lots to save his life. 
 I put these on and they fit to a 'T'. I looked in the 
 mirror myself and could see that the fit was perfect. 
 
 " 'Now, look here, Brother Green,' said I, 'what 
 are you in business for? You are in business to buy 
 the best stuff that you can for your money. Now, 
 you remember you thought when you bought my 
 goods that they were from one to two dollars a suit 
 
 188 
 
'SHURE. THAT CIGARE IS A BIRRD/ 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 cheaper and just as good as anything you had seen. 
 Now, if you can buy something from me just as good 
 as another man can give you, and buy it cheaper, you 
 are going to do it, aren't you ?' 
 
 'Why, to be sure, Jim/ said Green, warming up. 
 
 " 'Now, look here, it isn't the opinion of your 
 clerk or your own opinion even that you care a rap 
 for. The opinion that is worth something is that 
 of the man who buys his goods from you. Now, 
 you see very plainly that my stuff is good. Thirty- 
 eight is a size of which you bought many and you 
 haven't that size left 'in but three lines out of ten. 
 Here you see very plainly that my goods have moved 
 faster than any other clothing you have bought this 
 season; and, as far as the fit is concerned, you see 
 full well, that other stuff didn't fit Johnnie because 
 he isn't built right. You did see and you do see 
 I have one of them on right now that my clothing 
 fits a well-built man.' 
 
 "I saw that I had the old man on my side and I 
 knew that Johnnie had dropped several points in his 
 estimation. The truth of the matter was the clerk 
 was knocking on me in favor of one of his old 
 friends. Of course I wouldn't come right out and 
 say this but the old man himself grew wise on this 
 point because that afternoon he came down by him- 
 self and bought from me a good, fat bill. The clerk 
 simply killed himself by not being fair with me. No 
 
 189 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 clerk who expects promotion can afford to play favor- 
 ites." 
 
 "It's all right when you can get over the clerk's 
 head and to the merchant himself/' chimed in the 
 Boys' & Children's Clothing man, when there is any 
 graft going around, but it is a hard game to play 
 when you must deal with a buyer who is the supreme 
 judge. I once had an experience with a buyer down 
 in California. I went 'into one of the big stores down 
 there and jollied around with the buyer in my de- 
 partment. He said he would come over and look at 
 my line. He took the hook so quickly that I ought 
 to have been on to him to start with, but I didn't. He 
 came over to my sample room in the evening. Now 
 that, you know, isn't a very good time to buy cloth- 
 ing. Nothing is as good as daylight for that. He 
 didn't question my price or anything of that sort. He 
 would look at a few things and then stop and talk 
 horse with me for awhile. I don't like to do business 
 with that kind of a fellow. Wheln I do business, I 
 like to do business; when I talk horse I like to talk 
 horse ; and I want a man with me in the sample room 
 who is interested in what he is doing. It is the busy 
 man, anyway, that makes you a good customer not 
 the one with whom business is merely a side issue. 
 
 "After monkeying around a couple of hours, I 
 managed to get laid out a pretty fair line of stuff. 
 'Now, 5 said the buyer, 4 to-night I can only make up 
 a list of what's hfere. These things suit me pretty 
 
 190 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 well, and in the morning I can submit it to the old 
 man for his O.K.' 
 
 "Well, that looked easy to me so we wrote down 
 the order, and when we got through, that fellow was 
 bold enough to come right out and say, 'Now, look 
 here, you're making a pretty good commission on 
 this stuff here's a good bill, and I can throw it to 
 you if I wish, or I can kill it if I like. I'm not get- 
 ting any too much over where I am, so don't you 
 think your house can dig up about twenty for me on 
 this bill, and I'll see that it sticks?' " 
 
 "Did you dig?" said one of the boys. 
 
 "Dig? You bet your life not. This funny busi- 
 ness, I won't do. It may work for one bill but it 
 won't last long because it is only a matter of time 
 before the buyer who will be bribed will be jumped 
 and lose his job. I simply told the fellow that I 
 didn't do that sort of business; that unless he wished 
 to do business with me strictly on the square, I 
 wouldn't do business with him at all." 
 
 "Well, what did he say to this?" said I. 
 
 "Oh, he said to me, 'I'm just joshing with you and 
 I really wanted to see if I couldn't get you down a 
 little and make that much more for the house. I like 
 to do business myself with any one who is on the 
 square.' ' 
 
 "The order stuck then?" asked the wall paper man. 
 
 "No, it didn't. That's the worst of it. A few 
 days after I reached home in came a cancelation from 
 
 191 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the head of the house. At that time, I didn't under- 
 stand it. I supposed that the head of the house him- 
 self had really canceled the order, so the next time 
 I went to that town, I waltzed straight up to the of- 
 fice and asked to see the head of the establishment. 
 I asked him why he had canceled my order and he 
 told me that his buyer really had all of that in charge 
 and that he only followed out his recommendations ; 
 that the buyer had told him to cancel that bill and 
 he had done so. 
 
 "I saw through the whole scheme. There was 
 just one thing for me to do. I simply came right 
 square out and told the old man that his buyer had 
 wanted to get $20.00 from me to make the bill 
 stick; and I bet him a hundred that the clerk had 
 canceled my order so that he could get a rake-off 
 from somebody else. 
 
 "The old man sent for the buyer and told him to 
 get his pay and leave. He thanked me for putting 
 him wise and from that time on, he or some other 
 member of the firm always goes to the sample room." 
 
 Now, it must not be thought that every sale that 
 is made must be put through by some bright turn. 
 These stories I have told about getting the mer- 
 chant's attention are the extreme cases. The general 
 on the field of battle ofttimes must order a flank 
 movement, or a spirited cavalry dash; but he wins 
 his battle by following a well-thought-out plan. So 
 with the salesman. He must rely, in the main, upon 
 
 192 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 good, quiet, steady, well-planned work. Some mer- 
 chants compel a man to use extraordinary means to 
 catch them at the start. And the all-around salesman 
 will be able to meet such an emergency right at the 
 moment, and in an original way that will win. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 CUTTING PRICES. 
 
 IS NOT the salesman on the road who sells goods 
 to one customer at one price and to another at 
 another price, a thief ? Is not the house which 
 allows its salesman to do this an accomplice to the 
 crime of theft? 
 
 This is a hot shot, I know; but, if you are a sales- 
 man, ask yourself if it is right to get the marked 
 price of an article from a friend who gives you his 
 confidence, and then sell the same thing for a lower 
 price to another man who is suspicious and beats 
 you down. Ask yourself, if you have men on the 
 road, whether or not it is right for you to allow your 
 salesman to do these things, and then answer "Yes" 
 or "No." You will all answer "No, but we can't help 
 ourselves." 
 
 You can. A friend of mine, who travels for a 
 large house, way down East, that employs one hun- 
 dred road salesmen, told me recently of an experi- 
 ence directly in point. I will let him tell the story 
 to you: 
 
 "It is the custom in our house, you know, for all 
 of the boys to meet together twice each year when we 
 
 194 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 come in after our samples. After we get our samples 
 marked and packed, and are ready for the road, the 
 'old gentleman 7 in the house gives us all a banquet. 
 He sits at the head of the table and is toastmaster. 
 
 u He is wise in bringing the boys together in this 
 way because he knows that the boys on the road know 
 how things ought to be and that they can give him a 
 great many pointers, He has a stenographer present 
 who takes down every word that is said during the 
 evening. The reports of these semi-annual meetings 
 are the law books of this house. 
 
 "At our last meeting the 'old gentleman' when he 
 first arose to speak, said : 'Look here, boys' he knew 
 how to take us all 'there is one thing about our 
 system of business that I do not like ; it is this cutting 
 of prices. Now, what I would like to do this very 
 season and I have thought of it since you have all 
 packed up your trunks is to have all samples marked 
 in plain figures and for no man to deviate in any way 
 from the prices. Of course this is rather a bold thing 
 to do in that we have done business in the old way 
 of marking goods in characters for many years, so 
 I wish to hear from you all and see what you think 
 about it. I shall wish as many of you as will to state 
 in words just what you think on this subject, one by 
 one; but first of all, I wish that every man who fa- 
 vors marking samples in plain figures and not vary- 
 ing from the price would stand up, and that those 
 who think the other way would keep their seats.' 
 
 195 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, sir, do you know I was the only man out 
 of that whole hundred to stand up. The others sat 
 there. After standing for a moment I sat down, and 
 the 'old gentleman' arose again. 
 
 " 'Well, the vote is so near unanimous,' said the 
 'old gentleman,' "that it seems hardly necessary for us 
 to discuss the matter. Yet it is possible that one man 
 may be right and ninety-nine may be wrong, so let us 
 hear from one of our salesmen who differs from his 
 ninety-nine brethren.' 
 
 "With this I stood up, and I made a speech some- 
 thing like this: 'Mr. President, and Fellow Sales- 
 men : I am very glad that our worthy President has 
 given me the right to speak. He has said that one 
 man in a hundred may be right even though ninety- 
 nine do not believe as he does. There is no may be 
 about it. I do not think that I am right. I KNOW IT. 
 I speak from experience. When I first started on 
 the road one of my old friends in the house I was 
 just a stock boy, you know, going out for the first 
 time, not knowing whether I would succeed or fail 
 this old friend gave me this advice: Said he, 
 "Billy, it is better for you to be abused for selling 
 goods cheaply than to be fired for not selling them 
 at all." With this advice before me from an old 
 salesman in the house, and knowing that all of the 
 salesmen nearly in greater or less degree slaughtered 
 the price of goods, I went out on the road. The 
 first thing I began to do was' to cut, cut, cut. Letters 
 
 196 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 came to me from the house to quit it, but I kept on 
 cutting, cutting, cutting. I knew that the other boys 
 in the house did it, and I did not see any reason why 
 I should not. It was my habit to do this : If a man 
 was hard to move in any way and was mean to 
 me I came at him with prices. If he treated me 
 gentlemanly and gave me his confidence, I robbed 
 him that is, I got the full marked price, while the 
 other fellow bought goods cheaper than this man. 
 Once I got caught up with. Two of my customers 
 met in market and, as merchants usually do when 
 they meet in market, they began to discuss the lines 
 of goods which they carried. They found that they 
 both carried my line, and my good friend learned 
 that the other fellow bought certain lines cheaper 
 than he did. 
 
 " 'The next time I went around to his town I wore 
 the same old good smile and everything of that kind 
 but I soon saw that he did not take to me as kindly 
 as before. When I asked him to come over to my 
 sample room, he said to me, "No, I will not go over 
 I shall not buy any more goods from you." 
 
 " ' "Why, what is" the matter?" I asked. 
 
 " * "Oh, never mind, I just don't care to handle 
 your line," said he. 
 
 " ' "Why, aren't the goods all right?" I asked. 
 
 " c "Yes, the goods are all right, and since you 
 have pressed the question I wish to tell you that the 
 reason why I don't care to buy any more goods from 
 
 197 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 you is that you have sold goods to other people for 
 less money than you have to me.' 7 
 
 " *I could not deny it, and even when I offered to 
 sell him goods at the same price that I had other 
 people he said to me, u No, sir; you can't sell me 
 goods at any price. I don't care to deal with a man 
 who does business that way." 
 
 " 'This set me to thinking, and I thought about it 
 so hard that I began to see that I was not doing right 
 and, furthermore, that I was not doing what would 
 help me to build up a permanent business. I saw that 
 I was trying to build business by making many mer- 
 chants think that I was a cut-throat rather than a man 
 in whom they could place confidence. So I believe 
 in marking goods in plain figures and selling to every 
 one for the same price. And, gentlemen, I even 
 changed territories so I could go into a new one and 
 build a business on the square. Whether or not I 
 have prospered, you all know.' 
 
 "The old gentleman arose and said: 'Now, what 
 our good friend has just said, strikes me just right, 
 and if I were a salesman I would follow out his 
 ideas ; he has convinced me. But what do you other 
 gentlemen think of this? I would like to hear from 
 you.' 
 
 "One by one the boys got up, not all of them, but 
 many. Boiled down, the reasons which they gave 
 for not wishing to mark their goods in plain figures, 
 were these: 
 
 198 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "First. That ofttimes one of their customer's pa- 
 trons might wish to make a special order and if he 
 saw the samples marked in plain figures he would 
 find out just how much profit was being made. 
 
 "Second. That often they showed goods in a 
 man's store and people who were standing around 
 would see what the wholesale price was. 
 
 "Third. That most merchants like to feel that 
 they are buying goods cheaper than any one else. 
 
 "After all of these arguments were made, the old 
 gentleman asked me to reply to them. I did so in 
 these words : 
 
 ' 'Now, as to your first argument about special 
 orders. The man on the road should not try or wish 
 to sell one hat or one pair of shoes or one suit of 
 clothes to some special customer who will take half 
 an hour to make his selection. What he should do 
 is to sell a merchant a good bill and he can sell a 
 whole bill of goods about as quickly as he can sell 
 one special item. If marking my goods in plain fig- 
 ures would do nothing more than keep away from 
 my sample room these special order fiends which 
 hound every merchant in the country, that alone 
 would lead me to do it.' 
 
 "When I said this, several of the boys clapped 
 their hands, and I saw that things were coming my 
 way. 
 
 ' 'Now, as to your second argument regarding 
 showing goods in a merchant's store. If there is 
 
 199 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 anything I detest it is to do this, because when you 
 go to show a man your goods you should have his 
 complete attention. This you cannot get when there 
 are customers present or a lot of loafers around the 
 store cutting into what you are doing. I would rath- 
 er open up in the office of a burning livery stable 
 than have a whole day in a store. What you want 
 to do, gentlemen,' said I, 'is this : Not to carry your 
 samples to your customer's store, but to take your 
 customer to your store your sample room. There 
 you get his complete attention, without which no one 
 can make a successful sale.' 
 
 "Still more of the boys applauded me and I con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " 'Now, gentlemen, as to the last point. Several 
 of you have said that some merchants wish to think 
 that they buy from you cheaper than other merchants 
 in neighboring towns. They do not wish to think 
 anything of the kind. What they do wish to think 
 is that they are buying them as cheaply as their neigh- 
 bors do.' Still more of the boys applauded what I 
 said, and one fellow who traveled down in Missouri 
 yelled like a coon hunter. 
 
 'The basis of love, gentlemen,' I persisted, 'is 
 respect. Some of you have had the good sense to 
 marry. To each of these I say: Before the girl who 
 is now your wife found that she loved you, she 
 discovered that you had her respect and admiration. 
 ' 'And there is not a single one of you who has a 
 
 200 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 customer that does not have at least a little confidence 
 in you. Confidence is the basis of business. 
 
 " 'Now, I want to tell you another thing' I was 
 getting warm then 'It is impossible to tell a lie so 
 that the man to whom you tell it will believe it is the 
 truth. If a man has a lie in his heart, that lie will 
 be felt and spotted by the men he talks to while he 
 affirms with his lips that he speaks the truth. If a 
 merchant asks you if you are selling him goods as 
 cheaply as you sell them to other people, and you tell 
 him "Yes" and you are really not doing so, he will 
 know that you are telling him a lie, and you will lose 
 his confidence and you will lose his business. The 
 one thing to do then, is to treat everybody alike to 
 sell them all at the same price. 
 
 "Now, it is possible for a man to mark his samples 
 in characters and to do a one-price business, but you 
 can bet your life that the stranger will be leery of you 
 if your goods are marked in characters, But if you 
 mark your goods in plain figures and you say to a 
 merchant when you begin to show them to him that 
 your goods are marked in plain figures and that you 
 do not vary from the price, he will believe you and 
 will not try to beat you down. Then you will gain 
 his confidence and he will have more confidence in 
 you, the plain-figure man, than he will in the char- 
 acter-price man from whom he might have been 
 buying for years. 
 
 " 'Judgment is scarcely a factor in business; even 
 
 201 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 many good merchants are not judges of goods. They 
 are all free to confess this. The best merchant is 
 the best judge of men. These merchants, therefore, 
 must and do depend upon the salesmen from whom 
 they buy their goods. Here, again, is where con- 
 fidence comes in. This whole thing is confidence, I 
 say. Many a merchant passes up lines of goods 
 that he thinks are better than those he is handling 
 passes them up because he does not know their super- 
 iority and because he does not trust the man who tries 
 to sell them to him. 
 
 " 'Merchants themselves many of them give 
 baits to their customers. They know this game full 
 well, and they do not care for baits themselves. I 
 remember that I once sold a bill of goods in this 
 way : I had sold this customer regularly for five or 
 six years every season. This time he told me that 
 he had bought. He said to me: "The other fellow 
 gave me his price one morning and then he came over 
 to see me in the afternoon and dropped on the price 
 and I bought the goods then because I knew I had 
 him at the bottom." 
 
 " 'Now, do you suppose I went to making cuts 
 to get even with that other fellow? Not a bit of it. 
 I first showed my old customer that he did not know 
 the values of goods. Then I told him: "Now, you 
 may buy my goods if you like; but you will buy them 
 no cheaper than I have been selling them to you for 
 the last five or six years. Do you suppose that I 
 
 202 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 would come around here to-day and make an open 
 confession that I have been robbing you for all of 
 these years? No, sir; I try to see that my goods are 
 marked right in the beginning and then I treat every- 
 body alike." Although he had turned me down, this 
 man bought my goods and countermanded the order 
 of the other fellow. 
 
 " 'And, boys you who have been so dishonest so 
 long' said I, 'don't know how happy it makes a fel- 
 low feel to know that what he is doing is right, and 
 you cannot beat the right. It is good enough. When 
 you know r in your own heart that you are honorable 
 in your dealings with your merchant friends, you can 
 walk right square up to them and look them straight 
 in the eye and make them feel that you are treating 
 them right. They will then give you their confi- 
 dence, and confidence begets business. Therefore, 
 gentlemen, I don't care what any of you are going to 
 do. I, myself, shall mark my goods in plain figures 
 and sell them at the same price to everyone, and I 
 only wish that I worked for a firm that would compel 
 all their salesmen to be honest.' 
 
 "With this, the old man arose. I saw that I had 
 him won over, but I heard one of the boys who sat 
 near me whisper, 'Now, watch the old man give it to 
 him.' But he did not. Instead, he said to me : 'This 
 is surely a case where, although there were ninety- 
 nine against him, the one is right. I hereby issue an 
 order to every salesman to mark his goods in plain 
 
 203 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 figures and to sell his goods at the marked price. I 
 wish you, furthermore, to do another thing. On 
 every sample on which I told you you might make 
 a cut, if necessary, I wish you would make that cut 
 on the start. I have always wished to do business 
 as our one-priced friend has suggested but I have 
 never been strong enough to do so. I had always 
 thought myself honest, believing that business ex- 
 pediency made it necessary to give a few people the 
 inside over others; but I am going to make a frank 
 confession to you I can say that I have not been 
 honest. 
 
 " 'I feel like a certain clothing manufacturer felt 
 for a long time. I was talking with him at luncheon the 
 other day; he is a man who marks his goods in plain 
 figures. If the salesman, by mistake, sold a ten dol- 
 lar suit for eleven dollars, the goods when shipped 
 out are billed at ten dollars. He is the one, gentle- 
 men, who put this plain-figure idea into my head. 
 One of his salesmen, as we all sat together at the 
 table, asked him: u Mr. Blank, how many years have 
 you been doing the one-price, plain-figure business?" 
 
 " 4 U A little over four years," said he. 
 
 " ' "And how old are you?" the salesman asked. 
 
 " ' "Fifty-five," was the answer. 
 
 " 4 "In other words," said he, "you have been a 
 thief for over half a century." 
 
 "'"Yes; you're right," said the clothing manu- 
 
 204 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 facturer and this was the only time I ever heard 
 him agree with anybody in my life 1 
 
 " 'His business philosophy was quaintly summed 
 up in the one word PERVERSE. "Give a man what he 
 wants," he said, u and he doesn't want it." "When 
 you find other people going in one direction, go in the 
 other, and you will go in the right one." He saw 
 nearly every one else in the clothing business mark- 
 ing their goods in characters, and, true to his philos- 
 ophy "Perverse" marked his goods in plain fig- 
 ures, and he is succeeding. Now, gentlemen, I am 
 going to do the same thing. 
 
 " 'And, another thing I am not going to mark 
 just part of them in plain figures. Do you know, I 
 called on a wholesale drygoods man the other day 
 the President of the concern. He told me that he 
 marked a part of their manufactured goods in plain 
 figures and the rest in characters. I said to him, 
 "You confess that you are only partly honest; in 
 being only half honest you are dishonest." So, 
 gentlemen, I am going to mark our goods in plain 
 figures, and I want you to sell them to everybody at 
 the same price; if you do not, I will not ship them. 
 
 ' 'Now, I thought I was through, but one more 
 idea has occurred to me. By selling our goods at 
 strictly one price I can figure exactly how much 
 money I am making on a given volume of business. 
 Before, this matter of "cuts" made it a varying, un- 
 certain amount; in future there will be certainty as 
 
 205 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to the amount of profits. And another thing, so sure 
 as I live, if all of you go out and make the same in- 
 crease that the one who stood out against all of us 
 has made, our business will thrive so that we can 
 afford to sell goods cheaper still. Until to-night I 
 never knew why it was that he took hold of what 
 seemed to me a big business in his predecessor's ter- 
 ritory and doubled it the second year. His success 
 was the triumph of common honesty, and we all shall 
 try his plan, for honesty is right, and nothing beats 
 the right.' 
 
 "When the vote was taken the second time, every 
 man at the table stood up." 
 
 206 
 
D 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CANCELED ORDERS. 
 
 O I like cancellations? Well, I guess not!" 
 said a furnishing goods friend, straightening 
 up a little and lighting his cigar as a group of 
 us sat around the radiator after supper one night in 
 the Hoffman House. "I'll tell you, boys, I'd rather 
 keep company with a hobo, than with a merchant 
 who will place an order and then cancel it without 
 just cause. I can stand it all right if I call on a man 
 for a quarter of a century and don't sell him a sou, 
 but when I once make a sale, I want it to stick. This 
 selling business isn't such a snap as most of our em- 
 ployers think. It takes a whole lot of hard knock- 
 ing; the easy push-over days are all over. When a 
 man lands a good order now it makes the blood rush 
 all over his veins ; and when an order it cut out it is 
 like getting separated from a wisdom tooth. Of 
 course you can't blame a Kansas merchant for going 
 back on his orders in a grasshopper year; but it is 
 the fellow who has half a notion of canceling when 
 he buys and afterwards really does cancel, that I 
 carry a club for. 
 
 "Usually a fellow who does this sort of funny 
 
 207 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 work comes to grief. I know I once had the satis- 
 faction of playing even with a smart buyer who can- 
 celed on me. 
 
 "I was down in. California. I was put onto a fel- 
 low named Johnson up in Humboldt County, who 
 wanted some plunder in my line the boys, you 
 know, are pretty good to each other in tipping a good 
 chance off to one another. I couldn't very well run 
 up to the place it was a two-day town so I wrote 
 Johnson to meet me at 'Frisco at my expense. He 
 came down, bought his bill all right, and I paid him 
 his expense. Luckily, I put a clothing man on and 
 we 'divied' the expense. We treated that fellow 
 white as chalk ; we gave him a good time took him 
 to the show and put before him a good spread. 
 
 "Do you know that fellow just simply worked us. 
 He wanted to come to 'Frisco, anyhow, and just 
 thought he'd let me foot the bill. How do I know 
 it? Because he wrote the house canceling the order 
 before he started back home, I figured up how long 
 it would take to get a letter to Chicago and back; 
 and he couldn't have gone home and written the firm 
 so that I could get the notification as soon as I did 
 unless he wrote the cancelation the very night we took 
 him to the theater. I never had a man do me 
 such dirt. I felt like I'd love to give him just one 
 more swell dinner, and use a stomach pump on him. 
 
 "But didn't I get beautifully even with Brother 
 Johnson ! 
 
 208 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "The next season, as a drawing card, I had my 
 packer carry on the side, in his name, a greatly ad- 
 vertised line of shoes. It didn't pay a long commis- 
 sion, but everybody wanted it; and it enabled me to 
 get people into my big towns so that I did not have 
 to beat the brush. 
 
 "I had failed to scratch Johnson from my mailing 
 list, so he got a card from my packer as well as a 
 letter from myself that if he would meet him in 
 San Francisco his expenses would be paid. He did 
 not know that my packer and myself were really the 
 the same man. 
 
 "Johnson jumped at the advertised shoe line like 
 a rainbow trout at a 'royal coachman.' It's funny 
 how some merchants get daffy over a little printer's 
 ink, but it does the work and the man who advertises 
 his goods is the boy who gets the fat envelopes. I'd 
 rather go on the road to-day with a line of shoes 
 made out of soft blotting paper, if they had good, 
 things said about them in the magazines and if flam- 
 ing posters went with them than to try to dish out 
 oak-tanned soles with prime calf uppers at half price 
 and with a good line of palaver. It's the lad who 
 sticks type that, when you get right down to it, does 
 the biz. 
 
 "The letter which Johnson wrote in reply to the 
 card of my packer went something like this: 
 
 1 'My dear sir: In regard to your favor of the 
 23d inst., I beg to say that I could use about $2000 
 
 209 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 worth of your line if you could come up here, pro- 
 viding that I would be the only one that you would 
 sell your line to in my town. 
 
 u 'Hoping to hear from you soon in regard to this 
 matter, I remain, very truly, Johnson.' 
 
 " T. S. If you can't possibly come up, I'll come 
 down.' 
 
 "What did I do? Well, I thought the matter 
 over and decided that business was business and, 
 there being no other chance in his town, I would let 
 him come and try to play even on the old score. I 
 wired him to come down, and I thought, as I had 
 him on the run, I'd better put on a pusher. My mes- 
 sage read: 'Come down but you must be here to* 
 
 morrow.' 
 
 "Just after my telegram was off I told the girl 
 to rush it I called at the office for my mail and, 
 
 bless me! I had a letter from another man in the 
 
 i 
 same town. 
 
 "Now, say what you will, boys, a man's letter re- 
 veals his character. If a man has mean blood in his 
 veins he will spread some of it on the paper when he 
 writes to you. I've seen the pugnacious wrinkles of 
 a bull pup's face many a time wiggling between the 
 lines of a letter. And if there's sunshine in a man's 
 heart that also will brighten up the sheet he writes on. 
 
 "The other man in the town wrote about like this : 
 
 " Tour postal received and I must say I regret ex- 
 ceedingly that I have just sent in a mail order for 
 
 210 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 your goods. I wish I had known that you were com- 
 ing, for I always save my orders for the boys on the 
 road when I can. Now, the next time you come to 
 'Frisco, let me know a few days ahead and I will run 
 down to meet you. I want your goods. My business 
 in your line is steadily increasing. When I started 
 in I just kept them for a side line, but your goods^ 
 give first class satisfaction, and in the near future P 
 shall handle nothing else. It will take a little time 
 to clean out the other makes, but when I do by 
 next season I shall have a nice order for you. I 
 hope to hear from you before you get to the next 
 coast say a month before. Truly yours, <-. 
 
 "They say a 'bird in the hand's worth two in the 
 bush,' but that depends upon the kind of a bird you've 
 got hold of. I'll let go of a tough old owl every 
 time to take a chance at catching a spring chicken. 
 Without a second thought, I decided that I'd risk it 
 on the man who wrote me such a gentlemanly letter 
 rather than deal with the fellow who had canceled 
 on me. Furthermore, I had half an idea that John- 
 son was making me fair promises only to get the line 
 and cut the other fellow's throat and that maybe he 
 would cancel again. So I immediately sent Johnson 
 a second telegram: 
 
 " 'Cannot place the line with you. Do not come 
 down.' 
 
 u He was anxious for the line and he wired back: 
 
 " 'Write particulars why you cannot sell me your 
 shoes.* 
 
 211 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, wasn't this a chance? My clothing friend 
 was with me again. I told him the story. 'Soak 
 him good and wet!' said he. Together we wrote 
 the following letter, and, you bet your sweet life, I 
 mailed it, signing my packer's name : 
 
 " 'Sir: You wire me to write you "particulars 
 why" I cannot sell you my line of shoes. Two of 
 my friends at present in the hotel inform me that six 
 months ago you met them here at their expense, were 
 royally entertained by them and that after buying 
 bills of them you almost immediately cancelled your 
 orders, and that you have never offered to return to 
 them the $25.00 they spent for your traveling ex- 
 penses. These gentlemen are reputable; and, to an- 
 swer your question specifically and plainly, I do not 
 care to place my line with you because in you I have 
 no confidence, sir.' ' 
 
 "That was getting even with a vengeance," spoke 
 up the furnishing goods man. "In this canceling bus- 
 iness, though, sometimes the merchant has just cause 
 for it. I know I once had a case where my customer 
 did exactly the right thing by canceling his order. 
 
 "Along the last part of October, I sold him a bill 
 of ties this was down in Mississippi. I sent in a 
 little express order for immediate shipment, and for 
 December first a freight shipment which my man 
 wished for the Christmas trade. I also took his spring 
 order to be sent out February first. 
 
 "Now, my man's credit was good. For several 
 seasons he had been discounting his bills. He had 
 
 212 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the personal acquaintance of our credit man and had 
 made a good impression on him. I always like to 
 have my customers acquainted with our credit man. 
 It's a good thing always for the merchant to do and 
 it's also a good thing for the house to know their 
 trade personally. Makes the man out in the country 
 feel that he's not doing business with strangers. 
 
 "There was no reason, then, why there should 
 have been any question in the credit department about 
 making the shipment. The little express order went 
 out all right but, by mistake, the credit man placed 
 the February first shipment and the December first 
 order away in the February first shipment file'. This 
 was a clear mistake no excuse for it. Business men 
 should not make mistakes. 
 
 "The first I heard about the matter was about New 
 Year. I was struck dumb when I received notice 
 from the Credit Department that my man had can- 
 celed his entire order. The credit man told me in 
 the letter which he sent along with the cancelation 
 notice that he had simply made a mistake in filing 
 the December first order away with the February 
 first shipment, and confessed that he had made a 
 mistake and begged my pardon. 
 
 "He was a gentleman with three times as much 
 work on his hands as the firm had the right to expect 
 from him for the money they paid him, so, although 
 I was much put out because of the cancelation, I real- 
 ly did not have any resentment toward the credit 
 
 213 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 man. If things move along smoothly in a wholesale 
 house, the man in the office and the salesman on the 
 road must pull in double harness. I couldn't quite 
 agree with my friend in the office, though, when he 
 said that my customer, when he failed to receive an 
 invoice soon after the first of December, should 
 have written in and said so. That wasn't the cus- 
 tomer's business. It was the business of the house, 
 if they were unable to make the shipment December 
 ist, to write the man and tell him so. 
 
 "Well, there I was! A good day's work had 
 gone to the bad. My order and it was a good 
 healthy one, too was canceled and perhaps all 
 future business with a good friend and solid cus- 
 tomer was at an end. 
 
 "The house had written my friend his name was 
 Morris asking him to reinstate the order; but that 
 was like putting bait before a fish at spawning time. 
 He wouldn't take the hook. I knew if there was 
 any reinstating to be had, I must get it. 
 
 "Now, Morris was a bully good friend of mine. 
 I really liked him very much, and he liked me. I 
 remember well the first time that I ever struck him. 
 Really, I went around to see him just for a personal 
 call. 'Look here, old fellow,' I said, 'I haven't come 
 around to do any business with you; but one of my 
 old friends, Jack Persey, has told me what a good 
 fellow you are and I've just dropped in to say hello. 
 Come, let's have a cigar.' 
 
 214 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "After we'd lighted our cigars and talked a little, 
 I said, 'Well, I'm sorry to get off in such a rush but 
 I must quit you. I must be packing up. My train 
 leaves in about an hour and a half. Now, really 
 Morris (he was such a whole-souled fellow that I 
 found myself, without any undue familiarity, calling 
 him by his first name, after a very few minutes) , I 
 don't want to do any business with you. I don't 
 wish to impose my acquaintance on you, but come 
 on over to my sample room and keep me company 
 while I'm packing.' 
 
 "I really didn't intend to do any business with 
 him. Some of the very best friends we all have on 
 the road, anyhow, are those to whom we never sell 
 a sou. Morris saw very plainly that I wasn't trying 
 to work him you can always pick out, anyway, the 
 ring of truth in words you hear. I started to pack 
 up without showing an item or even talking business. 
 My line was displayed, however, and it was really a 
 bird. Morris himself picked up a few samples and 
 threw them down on the table. 
 
 ' 'Say, dos are pretty ennyvay. Sent me a dotzen 
 of each von of dese in the color dey are dere, ant 
 also in black. I vill just gif you a leetle gompli- 
 mentary orter on account of Chack. There is no 
 reeson anyvay vy I shouldn't do beesness mit you. 
 You're de first man on de rote dot efer struck me 
 and didn't ask me to buy goots. I don't like the 
 fellow, anyvay, dot I'm buying ties from and his 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 house is noting to me. I vill gif you a goot orter 
 next season.' And, sure enough, Morris did give 
 me a good order next season, and for several seasons 
 after that. 
 
 "So you can see how I was put out when I got a 
 letter telling me that Morris had canceled the order. 
 I really cared less about the amount of the order 
 than I did about losing his friendship. So I sat 
 down and dictated a letter to him that ran some- 
 thing like this: 
 
 "'Dear Morris: 
 
 "The wordly hope men set their hearts upon 
 Turns ashes or it prospers and anon, 
 Like snow upon the desert's dusty face, 
 Lighting a little hour or two, is gone." 
 
 " 'Our business relationship, Morris, has always 
 been so pleasant that many a time I've hoped it 
 would last always. I cannot forget the kind-hearted 
 and friendly way in which you gave me your first 
 order. I had hoped that the firm I was with would 
 give you the good treatment which your friendship 
 for me deserved ; but here they are making a mistake 
 with the very man who, last of all, I would have 
 them offend. 
 
 " 'Now, Morris, I want you to feel that this is 
 not my fault. I am sure it is not yours. It can be 
 nobody's fault but that of the house. They, like 
 myself, are also really very sorry for this mistake. 
 
 " 'I enclose you tne letter which I received from 
 them in regard to this. Can you not see that they 
 regret this sincerely? Can you not even hear the 
 
 216 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 wail that our office man must have uttered when he 
 dictated the letter? Now, Morris, I really know 
 that my firm holds you in high esteem and why 
 should they not ? You have always patronized them 
 liberally. You have always paid your bills and you 
 have never made yourself ugly toward them in any 
 way. 
 
 " 'As I say, there is no excuse for this mistake but, 
 if you are willing to pass that all up, Morris, I am 
 sure you would make our credit man, who has made 
 this error, very happy indeed if you would merely 
 wire the house, "Ship my goods as originally 
 ordered." 
 
 " 'And, after all, Morris, think this thing over 
 and maybe you will conclude that u 'Tis better far 
 to bear the ills we have than fly to others that we 
 know not of." 
 
 " ' "Can't be always sunny 
 
 Dat's de lesson plain; 
 For ever' rose, my honey, 
 Am sweeter fer de rain." 
 " Tour friend, 
 
 "A good deal of poetry for a business letter," 
 spoke up one of the boys. This pricked the necktie 
 man, who flashed back, "Yes, but if there were more 
 poetry in business, it would be lots more pleasant 
 than it is." 
 
 "Well, how did it come out?" I asked. 
 
 "It so happened that I had to pass through Mor- 
 ris' town about ten days afterwards. I didn't care 
 anything about reinstating the order for the amount 
 
 217 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 of it, but I really did wish to go in and see my old 
 friend and at least square myself. So I dropped off 
 one day between trains at Morris' town, and went up 
 to see him. 
 
 " 'Hello,' said he, 'How are you, old man? I'm 
 glad to see you. Say, but dot vas a tandy letter. 
 I've ortered a seventy-five-cent vrame for it.' 
 
 " 'Well, Morris,' said I, 'you know I'm really 
 very glad that a little difficulty of this kind has come 
 up between us as I like you to know just where I 
 stand. Now, I haven't come here to do anything 
 but just see you. Cut the order clear out I wish 
 you would. It would teach the house a lesson and 
 make them more careful hereafter. Come on down 
 with me now. It's about supper time and we're 
 going to have a little feed.' 
 
 "I really meant every word I said. After we had 
 finished a fried chicken or two, we started back to 
 Morris' store. 
 
 ' 'Say,' said he, 'Haf you got the copy of dot 
 orter I gafe you?' 
 
 "I said, 'Why no, Morris, I haven't a copy of it. 
 You have one. Don't you remember that I gave 
 you one?' 
 
 'Yes, but ven I didn't get my goots on time I 
 kapt vaiting, und vaiting, und vaiting, und still dey 
 ditn't com, I took dot copy and I vas so mad dot 
 I tore it op and trew id in der stofe.' 
 
 'Well, if you wish to look over the copy, Mor- 
 
 218 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 ris, I can easily run down to the depot and tear my 
 tissue paper one out of my order book.' 
 
 " 'Veil, you go down und get it,' said Morris. 
 'Dere's some off the Gristmas goots it is too late for 
 me to use, but we'll fix op de Spring shipment som 
 vay.' 
 
 u When Morris and I looked over my copy, he 
 cut out a few items of the December ist shipment 
 but added to the February ist order a great deal 
 more than he canceled from the other one. 
 
 " 'Say,' said Morris, 'do you know vy I reinsdadet 
 dot orter. It vas dot letter you sent me.' 
 
 " Well, I thank you very much,' said I. 
 
 u 'You know, I don't care so much aboud dose 
 "vorldly hopes" and dot "sonshine," but vat dit 
 strike me vas vere you saidt: "It's better fair to 
 bear de ilts ve half don vly to odders dot ve know not 
 of." Dot means, Vat's de use of chanching 'ouses.' ' 
 
 "You can handle some men like that," said a hat 
 man friend who sat with us, but I struck one old bluf- 
 fer out in South Dakota once that wouldn't stand for 
 any smoothing over. He was the most disagreeable 
 white man to do business with I ever saw. He was 
 all right to talk fishing and politics with, and was a 
 good entertainer. He always treated me decently 
 in that way but when it got down to business he was 
 the meanest son of a gun on earth. A fishing trip 
 for half an hour or the politicial situation during 
 lucheon is a pretty good thing to talk over, but when 
 
 219 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 it comes to interfering with business, I think it is 
 about time to cut it out. 
 
 "My house had been selling this man for several 
 years. He handled a whole lot of goods but it 
 worried the life out of me to get his bill. 
 
 "Last time I did business with him he had 
 monkeyed with me all day long, and I had struck him 
 as many as four times to go over to my sample room. 
 If he had made a positive engagement and said that 
 he would see me at twelve o'clock that night, it 
 would have been all right; but he would turn away 
 with a grunt the subject of going to look at samples, 
 not even giving me the satisfaction of saying he 
 didn't want anything at all. 
 
 "I felt that I'd spent time enough in the town so, 
 after supper, I brought over a bunch of soft hats 
 under my arm, and about nine o'clock he looked at 
 them, picked out a few numbers, and said he had to 
 go to lodge. I boned him about straw hats I was 
 on my spring trip then. 
 
 " 'Look at them to-morrow,' he grunted. 
 
 "I was beginning to get tired of this sort of thing 
 so next morning early I went around to see another 
 man in the town. I'd made up my mind I'd rather 
 take less business from some one else and get it more 
 agreeably; but, to my surprise, I sold this other fel- 
 low $1,300, the best order I took on that trip. And 
 easy ! I believe he was one of the easiest men I ever 
 did business with; and his credit was Ai. He had 
 
 220 
 
'HE CAME IN WITH HIS BEFORE- 
 BREAKFAST GROUCH." 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 no objections whatever to my doing business with 
 others in the same town, because he wished his goods 
 put up under his own name rather than with our 
 brands on them, so this really made no interference. 
 
 "I finished with him in the morning about n 130. 
 On going over to my other man's store I found that 
 he was still in bed. Pretty soon he came in with his 
 before-breakfast grouch. It was afternoon before 
 I got him over to my sample room. Meantime I 
 had gone to sell another man and sold him a bunch 
 of children's and misses' goods such stuff as a 
 clothing house has no use for. 
 
 "After I'd taken the dogging of the gruff old 
 codger for a couple of hours he kicked on every- 
 thing, the brims being a quarter of an inch too wide 
 or too narrow, and the crowns not shaped exactly 
 right I finally closed the order and handed him his 
 copy. As he put his hand on the door-knob to go, 
 he cast his eye over a pile of misses' sailors and 
 growled: 'Well, who bought them?' 
 
 "I told him that I'd sold a little handful of goods 
 to a drygoods store, knowing there would be no in- 
 terference as he didn't carry that line of goods. 
 
 " 'Well, a man that sells me can't do business 
 with no other man in this town,' he grunted, and 
 with this, slammed the door and left me. He didn't 
 know that I'd sold his competitor a $1,300 bill. 
 
 "When I was about half through packing up, the 
 old growler's clerk, who was a gentlemanly young 
 
 221 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 fellow, came in and said to me, hesitatingly: 'Old 
 man, I hate to tell you, but the boss told me to come 
 over and say to you not to ship that bill of goods he 
 gave you unt\\ he ordered it. He is very unreason- 
 able, you know, and is kicking because you sold some 
 stuff to the drygoods man down the street.' 
 
 " 'Thank you, Gus,' said I to the clerk. I was 
 mad as fire, but not at him, of course. 'Now, Gus, 
 the old man has sent me a message by you. I'll let 
 you take one back to him. Now, mind you, you and 
 I are good friends, Gus. Tell him I say he can take 
 his business, including this order, and go with it now 
 and forever clean smack back to well, you know 
 the rest. Then tell him, Gus, that I've sold not only 
 this drygoods man a bill but also his strongest com- 
 petitor over $1,300 worth of goods. Tell him, 
 furthermore, that I personally appreciate all the 
 favors he has done for me in the past, in a personal 
 way; that I have enjoyed visiting with him; that 
 whenever I corne back to this town again in the 
 future, I shall come in to see him; that if I can do 
 him a personal favor in any way, at any time, any- 
 where, I shall be only too glad to do so, but that, 
 absolutely, our business relationship is at an end.' 
 
 " 'All right,' said Gus. 'I'll repeat to the old 
 man every word you've said. I'm glad you've called 
 him down. It'll do him good.' 
 
 "And you bet your life I tore his order up with- 
 out sending it in to the house and drew a line 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 through his name on my book, and have never 
 solicited his business since." 
 
 u You did him just exactly right," said the neck- 
 tie man. "While I squared myself with my friend 
 Morris, I was once independent with a customer 
 who cancelled an order on me. He came in to meet 
 me at Kansas City. Two more of the boys were 
 also there then. He placed orders with all of us. 
 His name was Stone. The truth is he came in and 
 brought his wife and boy with him just because he 
 wanted to take a little flyer at our expense. We had 
 written him telling him that we'd pay his expenses 
 if he would come in. He went ahead and took a 
 few hours of our time to place his orders. At the 
 time he did so I merely thought him a good liberal 
 buyer but, as I now look back at the way he bought, 
 he slipped down most too easy to stick. 
 
 "Sure enough, in three or four weeks the firm 
 wrote me that Stone had cancelled his order, stating 
 that he believed he had enough goods on hand to 
 run him, that season, but that possibly very late he 
 might reinstate the order. 
 
 "The fellow was good so I thought it wouldn't 
 do very much harm to try to get him to take the 
 goods. However, I employed very different tactics 
 from those I used with my friend Morris. I wrote 
 him this way: 
 
 " 'My dear Brother Stone : I have received a 
 letter from the firm stating that you have cancelled 
 
 223 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the order which you placed with me in Kansas City. 
 You know not how much I thank you for cancelling 
 this order. It gave me a great deal of pleasure to 
 sell you this bill of goods, and now that you have 
 cancelled it, I want you to be sure and make your 
 cancellation stick because then, sooner than I had 
 really expected, I shall have that same old pleasure 
 over again. 
 
 " 'It isn't always profit that a man should look for 
 in business. What good does it do him to make a 
 whole lot of money unless he can feel good on the 
 inside? The feel is about all there is in life anyway. 
 
 " 'Now in future, you go right on as you have in 
 the past, buy your goods from the other fellow. He 
 will not charge you a great deal more for them than 
 I would and your loss will not be very great in that 
 regard; but each time that I come around be sure to 
 take a lot of my time and place an order with me, 
 even if you do cancel it. 
 
 " 'Don't even trouble yourself about returning the 
 fifteen dollars expense money that was given you, 
 because the pleasure I had with you was worth that 
 much to me alone. I shall square this matter myself 
 with the other boys. No, I won't do that because 
 I'm sure that they feel in this matter just as I do. 
 
 " 'With very kindest regards, and ever at your 
 service, believe me, Brother Stone, 
 
 " 'Truly yours, 
 
 u He wired the house to ship the bill and sent the 
 message paid." 
 
 "That was what I call a grafter," said one of the 
 boys. 
 
 224 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Yes, you bet your life," said the wall paper man. 
 
 "I myself once cured a man of the cancelling 
 habit. You know there are some merchants over 
 the country who are afflicted with this disease. 
 
 "I had heard of a druggist out in Pennsylvania 
 who was noted for placing an order one morning 
 and cancelling it that very night. He had done a 
 trick of this kind on me once and I'd made up my 
 mind that I was going to play even with him. I 
 walked him over to my sample room early in the 
 morning. I had my samples all spread out so that 
 I could handle him quickly. There were a lot of new 
 patterns out that season flaming reds, greens, 
 cherry colors, blues, ocean greens all sorts of 
 shades and designs. 
 
 "The druggist picked out a cracking good order. 
 He took a copy of it himself in his own book. As 
 we were working the wind turned the sheets of his 
 memo, book and I saw that he had in it a copy of an 
 order in my line to another firm. This he had given 
 only a few days before. Every season this druggist 
 would really buy one big bill of wall paper, but this 
 was his trick: He would look at the line of every 
 man that came along. Sometimes he would place 
 six or eight orders a season. After placing an order 
 he would immediately cancel it. At his leisure he 
 would figure out which order pleased him best and 
 reinstate that one. 
 
 "Well, sir, when I finished with him it was close 
 
 225 . 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 onto luncheon time, but I didn't do anything but go 
 hungry for awhile. I took my notebook, made out 
 his order, as quickly as I could, wired it into the 
 firm (it cost me twelve dollars to do this), and told 
 them to be absolutely sure to put all hands to work 
 on that order and ship it on the four o'clock fast 
 freight that very day. I had to be in town the next 
 day. Soon after breakfast I went into the druggist's 
 store. I caught him back at his desk. I saw him 
 blot the ink on an envelope he had just addressed. 
 About this time a lady came in to get a prescription 
 filled. As the druggist turned his back I quickly 
 lifted the blotter and, seeing that the letter was 
 addressed to my firm, let it cover the envelope again. 
 I knew this was a cancellation letter. 
 
 u After the lady had gone out with her medicine, I 
 asked the druggist to show me some hair brushes 
 which were in the case at the other end of the store 
 from the desk. I made up my mind that it was 
 going to take me longer to buy that hairbrush than 
 it did the old man to buy my bill of wall paper. I 
 was getting his time. But I didn't rub my fingers 
 over many bristles before up backed a dray loaded 
 to the guards with the goods from my firm. The 
 drayman came in and handed the druggist the bill 
 of lading. 
 
 " What's this?' said he. 
 
 " 'I'm treed,' said the drayman. 'They're as heavy 
 as lead.' 
 
 226 
 
ft 
 
 TM TREED," SAID THE DRAYMAN, "THEY'RE AS 
 HEAVY AS LEAD." 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "With this the drayman rolled the cases into the 
 druggist's store. Well, sir, he was the cheapest look- 
 ing fellow you ever saw, but he kept the goods, all 
 right, and this cured him of cancelitis." 
 
 227 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CONCERNING CREDIT MEN. 
 
 THE credit man was the subject of our talk as 
 a crowd of us sat, one Sunday afternoon, in 
 the writing-room of the Palace Hotel at San 
 Francisco. The big green palm in the center of the 
 room cast, from its drooping and fronded branches, 
 shadows upon the red rugs carpeting the stone floor. 
 This was a peaceful scene and wholly unfitting to 
 the subject of our talk. 
 
 "I would rather herd sheep in a blizzard," blurted 
 out the clothing man, "than make credits. Yes, I 
 would rather brake on a night way- freight; be a 
 country doctor where the roads are always muddy ; a 
 dray horse on a granite-paved street; anything for 
 me before being a credit man ! It is the most thank- 
 less job a human being can hold. It is like being 
 squeezed up against the dock by a big steamship. If 
 you ship goods and they're not paid for, the house 
 kicks; if you turn down orders sent in, the traveling 
 man raises a howl. None of it for me. No, sir!" 
 "I have always been fairly lucky," spoke up the 
 hat man. "I've never been with but two houses in 
 my life and I've really never had any trouble with 
 
 228 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 my credit men. They were both reasonable, broad- 
 minded, quick-witted, diplomatic gentlemen. If a 
 man's credit were doubtful in their minds, they 
 would usually ask me about him, or even wire me, 
 sometimes, if an order were in a rush, to tell them 
 what I thought of the situation. And they would 
 always pay attention to what I said." 
 
 "Well, you are one in a hundred," spoke out the 
 clothing man. "You ought to shake hands with 
 yourself. You don't know what a hard time I've 
 had with the various men who've made credits on 
 the goods I have sold. 
 
 "The credit man, you know, usually grows up 
 from office boy to cashier, and from cashier to book- 
 keeper, from bookkeeper to assistant credit man and 
 then to credit man himself. Most of them have-" 
 never been away from the place they were born in, 
 and about all they know is what they have learned 
 behind the bars of their office windows. You 
 couldn't, for all sorts of money, hire a man who has 
 been on the road, to be a credit man. He can get 
 his money lots easier as a salesman; he has a much- 
 better chance for promotion, too. Still, if the sales- 
 man could be induced to become a credit man, he 
 would make the best one possible, because he would 
 understand that the salesman himself can get closer 
 to his customer than any one else and can find out 
 things from him that his customer would not tell to 
 any one else and, having been on the road himself, 
 
 229 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he would know that really about the only reliable 
 source of information concerning a merchant is the 
 salesman himself. 
 
 u When a merchant has confidence enough in a 
 man to buy goods from him and he will not buy 
 goods from him unless he has that confidence he 
 will tell him all about his private affairs. He will 
 tell him how much business he is doing, how much 
 profit he is making, how much he owes, what are his 
 future prospects, and everything of that kind. The 
 credit man who was once a salesman would also 
 know that these commercial agency books the 
 bibles of the average credit man don't amount to a 
 rap. For my own part, I wish old Satan had every 
 commercial agency book on earth to chuck into the 
 furnace, when he goes below, to roast the reporters 
 for the agencies. A lot of them will go there be- 
 cause a lot of reports are simply outright slander. 
 Commercial agencies break many a good merchant. 
 The heads of the agencies aim to give faithful re- 
 ports, but they haven't the means. 
 
 u Now, just for example, let me tell you what they 
 did to a man who did one of my customers when he 
 first started in business. This man had been a clerk 
 for several years in a clothing store over in Wyo- 
 ming. He was one of the kind that didn't spend his 
 money feeding slot matchines, but saved up $3,500 
 in cold, hard cash. This was enough for him to 
 start a little clothing shack of his own. 
 
 230 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Now, Herbert was a straight, steady boy. I 
 recommended him to my house for credit. He 
 didn't owe a dollar on earth. He bought about five 
 thousand dollars' worth of goods and was able to dis- 
 count his bills, right from the jump. Now, what 
 do you suppose one of the commercial agencies said 
 about him? Mind you, he had for four or five years 
 run his uncle's store. The uncle was sick and left 
 things really in the hands of Herbert. The agency 
 said he was worth not over five hundred dollars and 
 that he was no good for credit. 
 
 "I, of course, learned of this through our office 
 and I told Herbert all about it and insisted that he 
 ought to get that thing straightened out. He said, 
 when I spoke to him of it, 'Why, I did fill out the 
 blanks that they sent in to me told them the 
 straight of it, exactly what I had, $3,500, and they 
 surely reported it as I gave it to them.' 'No, they 
 haven't done any such thing, Herbert, because I 
 looked into the matter myself when I was last in 
 your office/ 
 
 "Well, Herbert had no trouble in getting goods 
 from the houses whose salesmen he knew real well, 
 but he had to suffer the inconvenience of having a 
 great many orders turned down that he placed 
 either that or else he was written that he would have 
 to pay cash in advance before shipping. It caused 
 him a whole lot of worry. The boy well, he wasn't 
 such a boy after all, he was nearly thirty years old 
 
 231 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 and strictly capable was worried about all this, and 
 I saw it. I told him, 'Look here, Herbert, you must 
 get this thing straightened up. You write the agen- 
 cies again and tell them just how you stand and that 
 you want them to give you the proper sort of a re- 
 port/ 
 
 "It wasn't a great while before the representa- 
 tive of this agency came around. Herbert went at 
 him hammer and tongs for not doing him justice 
 then what do you think that fellow did ? Nothing ! 
 
 "In spite of all this Herbert paid up all his bills 
 all right and soon established his credit by being 
 able to give references to first-class firms who stated 
 that he paid them promptly. So, he became inde- 
 pendent of the agencies altogether and when they 
 asked him for any statement after that, he told them, 
 
 'Go to .' Now, of course, this wasn't the thing 
 
 for him to do. 
 
 "A merchant should see that the commercial 
 agencies give him a good report because, if he 
 doesn't, he is simply cutting off his nose to spite his 
 face. If he ever starts to open a new account with 
 some house, the first thing the credit man of that 
 concern will do, when he gets his order, will be to 
 turn to his 'bibles 1 and see how the man is rated. 
 These commercial agencies are going to say some- 
 thing about a man. That's the way they make their 
 living. If they don't say something good, they will 
 say something indifferent or positively bad. So, 
 
 232 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 what's the merchant to do but truckle to them and 
 take chances on their telling the truth about him?" 
 
 "Yes, you're right," chimed in the drygoods man, 
 "but even then, try as hard as he will, the merchant 
 can't get justice, sometimes. One of my customers, 
 who is one of the most systematic business men I 
 know of, for years and years had no report. Half 
 the goods he bought was turned down simply be- 
 cause the agent in his town for the commercial 
 agency was a shyster lawyer who had it in for him. 
 And he had all he could do to retain his credit. Just 
 to show you how good the man was in the opinion 
 of those with whom he did business, let me say that 
 right after he had had a big fire and had suffered a 
 big loss, one firm wired him: Tour credit is good 
 with us for any amount. Buy what you will, pay 
 when you can.' 
 
 "Well, sir, this man was mad as fire at the 
 agencies, and for years and years he would have ab- 
 solutely nothing to do with them, but I finally told 
 him: 'Look here, Dick; now this thing is all right 
 but there's no use fighting those fellows. Why 
 don't you get what's coming to you?' And I talked 
 him into the idea of getting out after a right rating, 
 and told him how to go about it. 
 
 "One day, in another town where he had started 
 a branch store, he met one of the representatives of 
 the agency that had done him dirt, and said to him : 
 'Now, Mr. Man, I sometimes have occasion to know 
 
 233 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 how various firms that I do business with over the 
 country stand, and if it doesn't cost too much to have 
 your book, I'd like to subscribe.' 'Well, that won't 
 cost you a great deal,' said the agent. My friend 
 subscribed for the agency book, and in the next issue 
 he was reported as being worth from ten to twenty 
 thousand dollars. Another agency soon chimed in 
 and had him listed as worth from five to ten thou- 
 sand and with third-grade credit. Now, one or the 
 other of these wrong and the truth of the matter is 
 that both of them had slandered him for years; 
 he hadn't made ten to twenty thousand dollars 
 in ninety days. And just to show you how much good 
 that rating did my friend, he soon began to receive 
 circulars and catalogues galore from houses which, 
 before that time, had turned him down." 
 
 "The worst feature of turning down an order," 
 said the dry goods man, u is that when you have an 
 order turned down you also have a customer turned 
 away. I was waiting on a man in the house. He 
 was from out West. He was about half through 
 buying his bill. The account was worth over twelve 
 thousand a year to me. He thought so much of my 
 firm that he had his letters sent in my care and made 
 our store his headquarters while in the city. One 
 morning when he came in to get his mail I saw him 
 open one of his letters and, as he read it, a peculiar 
 expression came over his face. When he had read 
 his mail I asked him if he was ready to finish up. 
 
 234 
 
<:,*' 
 
 
 WHAT EXPLANATION HAVE YOU TO MAKE OF THIS. SIR ? ' 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 He said to me, 'No, Harry, I want to go over and 
 see your credit man.' 
 
 "I went with him. One of the old man's sons, 
 who had just come back from college, had taken 
 charge of the western credits. The old man would 
 have been a great deal better off if he'd pensioned 
 the kid and put one of the packers in the office, in- 
 stead. My customer went up to the credit boy and 
 
 said to him: 'Now, Mr. , I've just received a 
 
 letter from home stating that you've drawn on me 
 for three hundred and eighty-five dollars. What ex- 
 planation have you to make of this, sir? I have al- 
 ways, heretofore, discounted every bill that I have 
 bought from this establishment, and this bill for 
 which you have drawn on me is not yet due.' 
 
 ' 'I'll look the matter up,' said the young credit 
 man. He looked over his books a few minutes and 
 then tried to make some sort of an explanation in a 
 half-haughty kind of a way. My customer inter- 
 rupted him right in the midst of his explanation and 
 said, 'Well, you needn't say anything more about 
 this, sir. Just see what I owe you.' 
 
 "This was looked up and my customer right then 
 and there wrote his check for what he owed and 
 said to me : 
 
 ' 'Old man, I'm mighty sorry to have to do this, 
 but I cannot interpret this gentleman's conduct 
 (pointing to the credit man) to mean anything but 
 that my credit is no longer good here. I shall see 
 
 235 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 if there is not some one else in the city who will trust 
 me as I thought that this firm was willing to trust 
 me. This thing hurts me !' 
 
 "I couldn't explain matters in any way, and my 
 customer and my friend! walked out of the store 
 and has never been back since. That piece of Tom 
 foolery on the part of our snob of a credit man lost 
 the house and me an account worth over twelve 
 thousand dollars a year." 
 
 u That fellow," broke in the clothing man, u should 
 have got the same dose that was once given a credit 
 man in the house I used to work for. He had been 
 turning down order after order on good people, for 
 all of us boys. When we came home from our fall 
 trip we were so dissatisfied that we got together and 
 swore that we would not sign a contract with the 
 house unless the credit man they had was fired. We 
 all signed a written agreement to this effect. Also, 
 we agreed, upon our honor, that if one of us was 
 fired for taking the stand, we would all go. 
 
 "Now, you know, boys, it is the salesmen that 
 make the house. The house may have a line of goods 
 that is strictly it, but unless they have good salesmen 
 on the road they might as well shut up shop. A 
 salesman, of course, gets along a great deal better 
 with a good line than he does with a poor one, but a 
 wholesale house without a line of first-class repre- 
 sentatives cannot possibly succeed. And the house 
 knows this, you bet. 
 
 236 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, sir, I was the first salesman the old man 
 struck to make a contract with for the next year. I\ 
 had been doing first rate, making a good salary and 
 everything of that kind, and when the old man called 
 me into the sweat-box, he said to me : 
 
 " 'Well, I suppose we haven't very much to talk 
 over. What you have done has been satisfactory to 
 us, and I hope we've been satisfactory to you. If it 
 suits you we will just continue your old contract. 1 
 
 " 'There will have to be one condition to it,' said I 
 to the old man. 'Well, what's that?' 'I simply will 
 not work for this establishment if the fool credit man 
 that you have here is to continue. He has taken 
 hundreds of dollars out of my pocket this year by 
 turning down orders on good people who are worthy 
 of credit. Now, it doesn't make any difference as to 
 his salary if he turns down good people; in fact, if he 
 is in doubt about any man at all, or even the least bit 
 skittish, what does he do but turn him down ? This 
 is nothing out of his jeans, but it's taking shoes away 
 from my babies, and I simply won't stand for it.' 
 
 "The long and short of it was that I didn't sign 
 with the old man that day but he soon 'caved' after 
 he had talked with a few more of the boys one of 
 whom told him point blank that we would all quit 
 unless he gave the credit man his walking papers. 
 And, you bet your life, the credit man went and to- 
 day he is where he ought to be keeping books at a 
 hundred a month !" 
 
 237 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "It is not alone against the credit man who turns 
 down orders that I have a grudge," said the furnish- 
 ing goods man, "but also against the fellow who 
 monkeys with old customers. If there is anything 
 that makes a customer sour it is to be drawn on by a 
 firm that he has dealt with for a long time. Some 
 of the merchants out in the country, you know, get 
 themselves into the notion of thinking that the house 
 they deal with really loves them. They don't know 
 what a cold-blooded lot our houses really are. What 
 they're all looking for is the coin and they don't care 
 very much for a man when they believe he can't pay 
 his bills. I know I never felt cheaper in my life than 
 I did last trip. I went into an old customer's store 
 and what should I see upon his shelves but another 
 man's goods. I felt as if somebody had hit me be- 
 tween the eyes with a mallet, for he was a man I had 
 nursed for four or five years and brought him up to 
 be a good customer. He had a sort of a racket store 
 when I started with him groceries, tin pans, eggs, 
 brooms, a bucket of raw oysters, and all that sort of 
 stuff. One day I said to him, 'Why don't you throw 
 out this junk and go more into the clothing and fur- 
 nishing goods business? Lots cleaner business and 
 pays a great deal more profit. Furthermore, this line 
 of goods is sold on long datings and you can stretch 
 your capital much further than in handling other 
 lines.' 
 
 "Well, sir, he talked with me seriously about the 
 
 238 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 matter and from that time on he began to drop out 
 the tin pan and grocery end of his line. When I saw 
 he was doing this, I asked him to let me have the 
 hook in the ceiling from which for so long had swung 
 his bunch of blackening bananas, so I could have a 
 souvenir of his past folly ! I had worked him up until 
 his account was strictly a good one. 
 
 "In fact, he prospered so well with this store that 
 after a while he had started another one. When he 
 did this he, of course, stretched his capital a little and 
 depended upon his old houses to take care of him. 
 He had always discounted his bills in full, sometimes 
 even anticipating payments and making extra dis- 
 counts. 
 
 "I was tickled to sell him about twice as much as 
 usual, on one of my trips. It was just ninety days 
 after this when I got around again and saw the other 
 fellow's goods in the store. When I looked at the 
 strange labels I felt like some fellow had landed me 
 one on the jaw. You know it hurts to lose a cus- 
 tomer, especially if he is one that you have fed on the 
 bottle and thinks a great deal of you personally. 
 
 "Well, when I saw the other stuff, all I could do 
 was to march right up and say, 'Well, Fred, the 
 other fellow's been getting in his work, I see. What's 
 the matter? The sooner we get through with the un- 
 pleasant part of it, the better.' 'Now, there isn't 
 anything the matter with you, old man,' said my cus- 
 
 239 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tomer. 'Come up here in the office. I want to show 
 you how your house treated me.' 
 
 "And there he showed me a letter he had received 
 from the house stating that he must pay up his old 
 account before they would ship him any more goods; 
 and the old bill was one which was dated May ist, 
 four months, and was not due until September ist. 
 They wrote him this before the first of June, at which 
 time he was entitled to take off six per cent. He 
 simply sent a check for what he owed them and, to be 
 sure, wrote them to cancel his order. There was a 
 good bill and a loyal customer gone all on account 
 of the credit man." 
 
 "Once in a while, though," said the shoe man, 
 "you strike a fellow that will take a thing of this 
 sort good-naturedly, but they are rare. I once had a 
 customer down in Missouri who got a little behind 
 with the house. The credit man wrote him just about 
 the same sort of a letter that your man received, but 
 my friend, instead of getting mad, wrote back a let- 
 ter to the house, something like this : 
 
 ' 'Dear House : I've been buying goods from you 
 for a long time. I have paid you as well as I knew 
 how. You know I am pretty green. I started in life 
 pulling the cord over a mule and when I made a 
 little money at this I started a butcher shop. My 
 neighbors who sold other stuff, drygoods and things 
 of that sort, it looked to me didn't have much more 
 sense than I, and they lived in nice houses and had 
 sprinklers and flowers in their yards. So it looked to 
 
 240 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 me like that was a good business to go into. I tried 
 my hand at it and have got on fairly well. Of course, 
 I have been a little slow, you know, being fool enough 
 to think everybody honest and to do a credit business 
 myself. 
 
 4 'Now I really want to thank you for telling me I 
 must pay up before I can get any more goods. I kind 
 of look on you people as my friends, I have dealt with 
 you so long, and if you are getting a little leery about 
 me, why I don't know what in the world the other 
 fellows that don't care anything about me must be 
 beginning to think. When I got your letter telling 
 me to pay up before you would ship the bill I had 
 bought, I felt like I had run into a stone fence, but 
 this lick over the head has really done me a whole lot 
 of good and I am going to go a little more careful 
 hereafter. 
 
 " 'Just now I am not able to dig up all that I owe 
 but here is my check for a hundred. Now, I want to 
 keep out of the hole after this so you had better cut 
 down the order I gave your man about a half. After 
 all, the best friend that a man has is himself, and 
 hereafter I am going to try a little harder to look 
 after Number One. 
 
 " Tours truly, 
 
 t M 
 
 "Another thing that makes it hard for us," said 
 the furnishing man, "is to have the credit man so in- 
 fernally long in deciding about a shipment, holding 
 off and holding off, brooding and brooding, waiting 
 and waiting, and wondering and wondering whether 
 they shall ship or whether they shall not, and finally 
 
 241 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 getting the notion to send the goods just about the 
 time a man countermands his order. A countermand, 
 you know, is always a pusher and I would advise any 
 merchant who really wants to get goods, to place an 
 order and then immediately countermand it. When- 
 ever he does this the credit man will invariably beg 
 him to take the stuff. Oh, they're a great lot, these 
 credit men. 
 
 "I know I once sold a man who, while he was 
 stretching his capital to the limit pretty far, was doing 
 a good business and he wanted some red, white, and 
 blue neckties for Fourth of July trade. I had sold 
 him the bill in the early part of May. About the 
 2Oth of June, I received a letter from the credit man 
 asking me to write him further information about my 
 man. Well, I gave it to him. I sent him a telegram 
 that read like this : 'Ship this man today by express 
 sure. Heavens alive, he is good. You ought to 
 make credits for a coffin house for a while.' ' 
 
 "The credit man is usually bullet-headed about al- 
 lowances for another thing," said the shoe man. His 
 kind will fuss around about making little allowances 
 of a couple of dollars that come out of the house and 
 never stop to think we often spend that much on sun- 
 dries twice over every day. I had a man a great 
 while ago to whom I had sold a case of shoes that 
 were not at all satisfactory. I could see that they 
 were not when I called upon him and I simply told 
 him right out, 'Look here, Mark, this stuff isn't right. 
 
 242 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Now, I wish to square it. What will make this 
 right?' 'Oh,' he said, 'I don't think these shoes are 
 worth within two dollars a dozen of what you 
 charged me.' 'No, they're not worth within three 
 dollars,' said I. 'I will just give you a credit bill for 
 three dollars and call it square.' It was nothing 
 more than right because the stuff was bum. 
 
 "I came into the house soon after this and, passing 
 the credit memo, into the office, the credit man howled 
 as if I were pulling his jaw tooth. It hurt him to 
 see that little three dollars go on the profit and loss 
 account. 'Well, I won't insist upon it,' said I. 'I 
 will just ask the man to return the goods.' 'All 
 right,' he said. 
 
 "When I wrote out to my man, I told him the 
 truth about the matter, that the house had howled 
 a little because I had made the credit allowance, and 
 to just simply fire the stuff right back, but not to for- 
 get to ask that he be credited with the amount of 
 freight which he had already paid on the case of 
 shoes. It was just a small item, but what do you 
 think the credit man said when I showed him my cus- 
 tomer's letter, asking for the freight?' 
 
 "He said, Well, that fellow's mighty small.' " 
 
 "I have never had any of these troubles that you 
 boys are talking about," said the hat man. 
 
 "Lucky boy! Lucky boy!" spoke up the clothing 
 man in his big, heavy voice. 
 
 "Yes, you bet," chimed in the others. 
 
 243 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "It's a strange thing to me," chimed in the cloth- 
 ing man, "that credit men do not exercise more com- 
 mon sense. Now, there is one way, and just one 
 way, in which a credit department can be properly 
 conducted. The credit man and the man on the road 
 must work in double harness and pull together. The 
 salesman should know everything that is going on be- 
 tween his house and his customer. And when it 
 comes to the scratch, his judgment is the judgment 
 that should prevail when any matter of credits is to 
 be decided upon. The salesman should have a copy 
 of every letter that his customer writes his house, and 
 he should be sent a duplicate of every line that the 
 house writes to the customer. He should be kept 
 posted as to the amount of shipment the house makes, 
 and he should be notified whenever the customer 
 makes a remittance. This puts the salesman in posi- 
 tion to know how much to sell his customer, and 
 also when to mark the new bill he sells for shipment. 
 At the time of making the sale, it is very easy for 
 the man on the road to say to his customer, 'Now 
 look here, friend, as you haven't been quite able to 
 meet your past obligations promptly, suppose that we 
 stand off this shipment for a little while and give you 
 a chance to get out of the hole. I don't want to 
 bend your back with a big load of debt.' For saying 
 this, the customer will thank his salesman; but the 
 house cannot write the letter and say this same thing 
 without making a customer hot. 
 
 244 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "And another thing : If a salesman has shown him- 
 self strictly square in his recommendations, the sales- 
 man's recommendations regarding a shipment should 
 be followed. The salesman is the man and the one 
 man who can tell whether his customer is playing 
 ball or attending to business. Now, for example, 
 not a great while ago, I saw a merchant that one 
 big firm in this country thinks is strictly good, playing 
 billiards on the Saturday before Christmas. If there 
 is any time on earth when a retail merchant should 
 be in his store, it is on this day, but here was this 
 man, away from his store and up at the hotel, guz- 
 zling high balls and punching ivory. That thing 
 alone would have been enough to queer him with me 
 and if I had been selling him and he was not meet- 
 ing his bills promptly, I should simply tell the house 
 to cut him off. 
 
 "The salesman also knows how much business a 
 man is doing, whether it is a credit business and 
 all the other significant details. The merchant will 
 take the traveling man that he buys goods from, and 
 throw his books and his heart and everything wide 
 open, and tell him how he stands. Even if he is in 
 a little hole of some kind, it is of the traveling man 
 that he asks advice as to how to get out. 
 
 "Again, the traveling man knows all about the 
 trade conditions in his customer's town; whether 
 there has been a good crop and prices high; whether 
 the pay roll is keeping up or not; whether there is 
 
 245 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 some new enterprise going to start that will put on 
 more men and boom things. He knows all about 
 these things, and he is on the spot and has a personal 
 interest in finding out about them, if he is honest, 
 and most salesmen are. It is to his interest to be so. 
 And he can give information to the credit department 
 that nobody else can. 
 
 "The report of a salesman to his firm is worth 
 forty times as much as these little printed slips that 
 have been sent in by some ninny, numskull reporter 
 for a commercial agency. These fellows, before they 
 go around soliciting reports from merchants, have 
 usually been lily-fingered office boys who have -never 
 been in a place where a man can learn much common 
 sense until they have grown too old to get on to 
 things that have come in their way." 
 
 "Yes, you bet," spoke up the furnishing goods man. 
 "They are the fellows who do us boys on the road 
 a whole lot of harm. If the agencies wanted to get 
 men who would know how to secure good, sound 
 reports from merchants, they should hire first-class 
 salesmen and send them out instead of office boys. 
 
 "The credit man," he continued, "should do an- 
 other thing. He should not only send to the salesman 
 the letter he writes, but he should confer with the 
 man on the road before he writes. What he should 
 do, if the references the merchant gives return favor- 
 able reports and the salesman recommends the ac- 
 count, he should, without going any further, pass out 
 
 246 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 an order to save himself a whole lot of worry. But 
 it matters not how bad are the reports from any 
 and all sources, the credit man should write the sales- 
 man if he is near, or even wire him if he is far away, 
 laying before him the facts and asking for further in- 
 formation and judgment. I once asked our credit 
 man to do this but he kicked because a telegram 
 would cost the house four bits. He hadn't stopped 
 to think that it cost me out of my own pocket from 
 ten to twenty dollars expenses on every order I took. 
 Oh, they are wise, these credit men ! 
 
 "It is strange, too, that credit men do not average 
 better than they do. If the heads of firms really 
 knew what blunders their credit men make, I believe 
 that two-thirds of them would be fired tomorrow. 
 There isn't any way of getting at their blunders 
 except through the kicking of the traveling man and 
 when he makes a howl, the heads of the house usu- 
 ally dismiss him with, 'You sell the goods and we'll 
 attend to the rest.' 
 
 "A really 'broad minded, quick witted, diplomatic, 
 courteous credit man,' as you say, is worth a great 
 deal to a house. They are almost as rare as roses 
 on the desert. Now, just to show you how the credit 
 man and the salesman can pull together, let me give 
 you an example. 
 
 "I sold a man a fair bill of goods. I knew he was 
 a straightforward, square, capable man of good char- 
 acter. He was a pusher. I was in a rush and I took 
 
 247 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 from him just a brief statement of his affairs. I wrote 
 the house that I thought well of the man but didn't 
 especially recommend him. You see, if you recom- 
 mend strongly every man you sell, it is the same as 
 recommending none. So, unless it comes to a hard 
 pinch, I say no more than is necessary. Our credit 
 man got the agency reports on this man, which made 
 him out as no good and having no capital, and a 
 whole lot of things of that sort and he wrote the 
 man refusing to ship the bill. It looked to him that 
 this man's condition was so hopeless that it was un- 
 necessary for him to write me. He simply turned 
 the order down straight out. When I came in and 
 went over my list of turn-downs, I simply broke right 
 out and said to the credit man, 'Here, you've made a 
 bull on this.' 'Do you really think so?' said he. 
 'Heavens alive, yes! I know it. Why, this fellow 
 made five thousand dollars last year on a saw mill 
 that he has. He is in a booming country. Maybe 
 he had a little bad luck in the past but he is a hustler 
 and sinks deep into the velvet every time he takes 
 a step now.' 'Why, I am awfully sorry. What shall 
 I do about it?' 'Leave it to me,' said I. 
 
 "I wrote out to my man and told him the straight 
 of it, that the agencies had done him a great injustice, 
 and for him to write me personally exactly how he 
 stood and that I would see things through for him in 
 the office; that my house meant him no harm; that 
 he was a stranger to them, but upon my recommenda- 
 
 248 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tion, if his statement were anything like what I 
 thought it should be, they would fill the order. At 
 the same time, I suggested that the bill be cut about 
 half for the first shipment. 
 
 "Well, sir, that man sent me in his statement show- 
 ing that he not only had merchandise for which he 
 owed very little, but also over four hundred dollars in 
 the bank. I remember the amount. His statement 
 showed that he had a net worth of nearly eleven 
 thousand dollars, and that man told the truth. 
 Now, this information he would give me direct, but 
 the house was not able to obtain it elsewhere. 
 
 "Now, this is a case, you know, where there is 
 now good feeling all around and this is so just be- 
 cause the credit man paid attention to the salesman." 
 
 The outer door of the hotel was opened. In blew 
 a gust of wind. The green leaves of the big palm 
 rustled noisily as we scattered to our rooms, thankful 
 we were not credit men. 
 
 249 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WINNING THE CUSTOMER'S GOOD WILL. 
 
 TO WIN the customer's good will is the aim of 
 every successful salesman. 
 
 "Ah, but how can I do this?" asks the 
 new man. 
 
 The ways must be as many as the men he meets. 
 The dispositions of men are as varied as their looks. 
 A kind word will win one man and a bluff another. 
 A generous deed will go right into the heart of one 
 merchant; another will resent it, thinking that the 
 man who does him a favor seeks only to buy his good 
 will. The one thing, however, that the man on the 
 road must do, and always do, is to gain the confidence 
 of the man with whom he seeks to do business. His 
 favor will as surely follow this as day follows night. 
 The night may sometimes be long, like that at the 
 North Pole, but when day does finally dawn it will 
 also be of long duration. The man whose confi- 
 dence it is slow for you to gain, will probably prove 
 to be the man whose faith in you will last the longest. 
 
 Then, the salesman must not only have the knack 
 of getting the good will of his customer on first sight, 
 but he must also possess patience and, if need be, let 
 
 250 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 confidence in himself be a slow growth. He must do 
 business from the jump when he starts out with sam- 
 ples but, to be truly successful, his business must al- 
 ways grow. 
 
 A little group of us, having come back from our 
 trips, fell in together one day at luncheon in Chicago. 
 Our meeting was not planned at all, but before the 
 first of us had forgotten the sting of the tabasco on 
 our Blue Points, so many old friends had foregath- 
 ered that we had our waiters slide two tables to- 
 gether. There was quite a bunch of us. The last 
 one to join the party was a dry goods man. He 
 was a jolly good fellow. 
 
 "Hello! Ed, Hello -I" spoke up all the boys at 
 once. "How are you? Just home? Sorry to 
 hear your old customer out at Columbus finally had 
 to quit business," said the clothing man. 
 
 "Yes; so am I," said Ed. "He was a mighty 
 hard man for me to^get started with but when once 
 I landed him he was one of the most faithful cus- 
 tomers I had. Do you know that for more than eight 
 years he never bought a sou in my line from any 
 other man? It's too bad that he had to leave this 
 world. He was a fine old gentleman. I'll never for- 
 get, though, the first time I sold him. I had been 
 calling on him for three or four years. His town 
 was one of the first ones I made when I started on 
 the road I was not quite twenty, then. 
 
 "He always treated me courteously he was a 
 
 251 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Southerner, you know but I couldn't get next to 
 him to save my life. One day as I walked toward 
 his store, a little German band stationed itself just 
 before his door and started in to play Yankee Doodle. 
 I didn't pay any attention to this at the time, but 
 when I went up to shake hands with the old gentle- 
 man, as usual, I asked him if there was something in 
 my line he wanted. For the first time in his life 
 he was uncivil toward me. He said, 'No, suh, there 
 is not,' and he turned and walked away. Well, there 
 was nothing left for me to do but to scoot as soon 
 as I could. 
 
 "I made a sneak and went into another store but 
 soon I saw there was nothing there for me and I 
 thought I would run over to the hotel, get my traps 
 together and skip town by the next train. I had to 
 pass by the old man's door again. The little German 
 band was still there. They had quit playing Yankee 
 Doodle but were going it good and hard on * March- 
 ing Through Georgia.' I happened to look into the 
 old man's store and he was pacing up and down be- 
 hind the counter. A bright idea struck me. I went 
 up to the leader of the band and said, 'Look here, 
 Fritz, can you play Dixie?' 
 
 " 'Deekse ?' said the big, fat Bavarian. ' Vas iss 
 dass?' 
 
 "I didn't know much German but I whistled the 
 air and made him understand what I wanted. 
 
 " 'Ja wohl,' said he. 
 
 252 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " 'Then, here,' said I, handing him a cart wheel, 
 'just you stay right here and give me a dollar's worth 
 of Dixie, a whole dollar's worth, mind you!' 
 
 "Well, he must have understood me all right, for 
 the band promptly began to play Dixie. I didn't 
 know that the old gentleman had seen me talking to 
 the band leader, but he had come to the front door 
 to order the band to move on shortly after I came up. 
 
 "I simply stood there, leaning against the store in 
 the sunshine, while the German band blowed away. 
 Well, sir, the fellow that played the clarionet when 
 he got down to the lively part of the tune certainly 
 did make that little instrument sing. They didn't 
 know what Dixie meant but they played it to a fare- 
 ye-well, just the same! 
 
 "After a while the old man came to the front door. 
 He saw me standing there in the sunshine. There 
 was a smile on his face as broad as Lake Michigan. 
 Joy spread over his countenance in waves. When he 
 saw me leaning up against the store, he came right 
 out where I was and said, 'Look hyah, suh; I was 
 pow'ful uncivil to you this mo'nin', suh. I want to 
 beg yo' pa'don. No gentleman has a right to insult 
 another, but I was so infernally mad this mo'nin' 
 when you spoke to me, suh, that I couldn't be civil. 
 That confounded Yankee tune just riled me. You 
 know, I was an old confed'rate soldier, suh. The 
 wah is all ovah now and I'm really glad the niggers 
 are free. The country's lots bettah off as it is now. 
 
 253 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 Since I've been up hyah in this country I've begun to 
 think that Abe Lincoln was a good man and a fair 
 man, and a friend to the nation; but, confound itl 
 ever' time I hyah 'Yankee Doodle' or 'Marchin' 
 Through Georgia,' suh, I put on mah unifohm again 
 and want to fight. It's pow'ful ha'd fo' a man that 
 has woh the gray, suh, to forget the coloh of his 
 old clothes, try as ha'd as he will. I want to be 
 broad-minded, but, confound it ! it seems that I cyan't, 
 suh.' 
 
 " 'Well, you are ahead of me just one generation,' 
 said I. 'I was born in the North and raised up here 
 but my father was a Southern soldier.' 
 
 " 'What!' said the old man. 'Why didn't yo' tell 
 me this befoh, suh? Hyah, I've been treatin' yo' 
 like a dog, suh, all this time. And your father was 
 a confed'rate soldier, suh?' 
 
 " 'Yes, sir,' said I. 'He was under Jackson.' 
 
 " 'What ! Stomal Jackson ? Why, suh, a greater 
 man than Stomal Jackson nevah lived, suh. He was 
 a gentleman clean to the co'. Come right in, suh, and 
 sit down. I want to talk to yo' some mo'. 
 
 " 'Now, you are goin' to pa'don me, suh, fo' my 
 rudeness this mo'nin'. I want you to say that you 
 will.' 
 
 'Why, to be sure, Colonel,' said I. *I certainly 
 wouldn't blame you for the same feeling that I know 
 my father had as long as he lived.' 
 
 "The little Bavarian band, according to my in- 
 
 254 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 structions, kept on playing Dixie so long that the 
 fellow who blew the clarionet began to skip notes 
 and puff. I went out and told them that that was 
 enough of that tune and switched them onto S'wanee 
 River. To the tune of this old air, the Colonel 
 marched me up to his house for dinner. 
 
 "We didn't say a word about business, of course, 
 until after we had returned to the store. When we 
 came back there, the old Colonel said to me, 'Now, 
 look hyah, let me get yo' first name.' 
 
 " 'Ed,' said I. 
 
 " Well, yo'll have to let me call yo' "Ed." Yo're 
 lots younger'n I am. I can't do any business with yo' 
 this trip. I have my promise out. I told the man 
 that I've been buyin' dry goods from that I'd give 
 him my o'der fo' this fall but I don't think as much 
 of him as I do of you, and hyeahaftah I am going 
 to give you my business. I know that yo'll see that 
 yo' house treats me right and I would ratheh deal 
 with a man anyway that I have confidence in, suh. 
 Now, you needn't hurry, Ed, about gettin' around 
 hyah next season, suh, because, sho's yo' bawn, upon 
 the wo'd of a Southern gentleman, suh, yo' shall have 
 my business.' ' 
 
 "You sold him next time?" asked one of the boys. 
 
 "You bet your life I did," said Ed. "That man's 
 word was good." 
 
 "He was a splendid old gentleman," spoke up 
 another one of the boys. 
 
 255 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Yes," said the clothing man, "I haven't been 
 there for four or five years. He used to have a 
 lovely little girl that sometimes came down to the 
 store with him." 
 
 "Well," broke in Ed, "I'm glad that somebody 
 besides myself has a good opinion of her for she is 
 to be my wife next month." 
 
 "Well, good luck to you and lots of happiness, 11 
 chimed in all the boys. 
 
 "When once you get the good will of one of those 
 southerners," remarked the wallpaper man, "you 
 have it for all time. I don't wish to wave the bloody 
 shirt I am a northerner, myself but these northern 
 houses somehow don't know how to handle the south- 
 ern trade. I travel down in Louisiana and Missis- 
 sippi, and I really dodge every time that one of 
 my customers tells me he is going into the house. 
 Once I started a customer down in the Bayou coun- 
 try. I was getting along well with him and he was 
 giving me a share of his business. One season, how- 
 ever, he came into the house. I didn't know any- 
 thing about this until I was down there on my next 
 trip. I went to see him, as usual, expecting at least to 
 get a fair order, but when I asked him to come over 
 to my sample room he said, 'Now, Jack, I'd really 
 like to go oveh and do some business but I've already 
 bought my goods. I was in to see yo' house and when 
 I asked the young man at the do'h to see the membahs 
 of yo' firm, he went away fo' a minute or two and 
 
 256 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 when he came back, he said, without bein' at all 
 polite about it, "They're busy." I didn't say any- 
 thing mo'h to the young man but I turned on my 
 heel and went out the do'h. It made me so mad 
 that I do believe the spahks flew right out of me. I 
 made up my mind I wouldn't have anythin' mo'h to 
 do with such people and that I would buy mah wall 
 papah in New Yo'k when I got down theah. Now, 
 I'm mighty sorry about this, Jack, but I really cyan't 
 pat'onize a conce'n that treated me wuss'n a niggeh.' 
 
 "I tried to explain that the members of my firm 
 were very busy, and that they would have been only 
 too glad to see him had they known who he was, but 
 I couldn't do anything with the old gentleman be- 
 cause, he said, that he didn't wish to deal with people 
 that would treat anybody that way. He said he 
 thought every man should at least receive gentle- 
 manly treatment." 
 
 "And you bet he's right about that," spoke up 
 one ot the boys. 
 
 "Yes, he was," said Jack. "Still it was hard for 
 me to let go. I of course didn't say anything more 
 about business to him but there wasn't much going on 
 that day, althou'gh it was Saturday, and we visited 
 quite a while. You know they always have chairs 
 in the back end of stores down south and a customer 
 who comes in to buy something is always asked to 
 have a seat before anything is said about business. 
 It's a good, old sociable way and although it's a little 
 
 257 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 slow, I like it. Traveling is pleasant in the south, 
 whether a man does business or not, because he al- 
 ways receives courteous treatment. 
 
 u As we were talking along I asked the old gentle- 
 man where his little girl was that I had seen around 
 the store on previous trips. 
 
 " Well, Jack,' said he, Tm pow'ful sorry to tell 
 you but I'm afraid she's a cripple for life. A hoss 
 threw her and stepped on her leg an' broke it ve'y 
 badly neah the knee. She has her knee now in a 
 plaster Paris cast but I'm afraid she'll be lame as 
 long as she lives.' 
 
 "Well, sir, she was a pretty, sweet little girl, and 
 when her father told me about her misfortune I was 
 very sorry for him. He couldn't keep from crying 
 when he told me about it. I couldn't say much but 
 I felt mighty sorry. It isn't so bad for a boy to be 
 crippled but if there's anything that goes through 
 me' it is to see a beautiful little girl walking along 
 on crutches. 
 
 "I told the old gentleman goodbye and started 
 down to the hotel. A block or two away I saw a 
 flower store. I said to myself, 'Well, my firm has 
 treated my friend wrong but that's no reason why 
 I should have anything against him. I don't blame 
 him a bit. I'm just going to send a bouquet up to 
 the little girl anyhow.' 
 
 "So over at the flower store I passed out a five 
 dollar bill and wrote on the card that I sent with the 
 
 258 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 V 
 
 Marechal Niel roses, 'From a friend of your father's.' 
 "Now, I didn't have business in my eye, boys, 
 when I did this. It was right from the heart. I was 
 going to Sunday in that town anyway and get out on 
 a train early Monday morning. There was a tough 
 hotel in the next town I was to strike. 
 
 'That night, while I was at supper, the clerk 
 came into the dining room and told me that some- 
 body wanted to talk to me over the telephone. It 
 was the little girl's father. He said to me, 'Jack, I 
 want to thank you very much for those flowers that 
 you sent up to Mary. She's proud of them and sends 
 you a kiss; and I want to tell you that I'm proud of 
 this, Jack, but just to thank you oveh the wyah 
 isn't enough. I wanted to find out if you were at 
 the hotel. I want to come down and shake yo' hand. 
 Are yo 1 going' to be hyah tomorrow?' I told him 
 I was going to Sunday there. 'Well,' said the old 
 gentleman, 'I will see you tomorrow mo'nin'. I'll 
 come down befo' I go to chu'ch.' 
 
 "When he came down the next morning I was 
 up in my room where my samples were. If I could 
 have sold him a hundred thousand dollars I wouldn't 
 have asked him to look at anything, but I did ask 
 him to have a chair and smoke a cigar with me. 
 My samples were in the room where he couldn't keep 
 from seeing them and after he had thanked me again 
 and again and told me how much he appreciated my 
 
 259 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 kindness, he fingered over a line of goods of his own 
 accord, asking me the prices on them. 
 
 "I said to him, 'Now, look here, you probably 
 don't wish to price any goods today, as you are going 
 to church. These are worth so much and so much, 
 but if you wish to forgive and forget the discourtesy 
 my house has shown you, their line of goods is first- 
 class ; there's none better in the country ; nothing can 
 be said on that score against them, I'll stay over 
 tomorrow and show you.' 
 
 " 'No, I won't have you do that,' said my friend 
 he was my friend then 'Time is money to a man 
 on the road. If I was going to do any business with 
 yo' I ought to have done it yesterday. I have spoiled 
 a day fo' you an' I don't believe the Lord will hold 
 anything against me if I do business with you today. 
 You know he makes allo'ances when the ox gets in 
 the mire, so get out yo' book, if you will, suh, 
 an' I will give you an ohdeh.' 
 
 "Before I was through with him my bill amounted 
 to over six thousand dollars, the biggest order I ever 
 took in my life, and do you know, we finished it 
 in time for both of us to get up to church just as 
 the preacher was reading his text, and, singularly 
 enough, the text of the sermon that day was, 4 Do unto 
 others as you would have others do unto you/ I half 
 believe my friend had arranged this sermon with the 
 
 minister." 
 
 260 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Even if I have lost the twang in my voice," 
 spoke up the southerner, a furnishing goods man. 
 
 "Oh, come off I" 
 
 "Lost it?" said the clothing man. 
 
 "Yes, I reckon I have. I've been up no'th long 
 enough. Well, people down in my country are warm 
 hearted and courteous, but all the goodness in the 
 world doesn't dwell with them. I've found some 
 pow'ful good people up no'th. Raisin' has some- 
 thing to do with a man, but that isn't all. We find 
 good men whereveh we go, if we look fo' them right. 
 Your tellin' about sendin' flowe's to that little girl 
 reminds me of the time when I once sent some flowe's, 
 but instead of sending them to a girl, I sent them to 
 a big crusty old man. This man was, to a great 
 extent, an exception to the rule that I have just laid 
 down. That is, he was cranky and ha'd to get next 
 to for nearly ever'body, and sometimes he was pretty 
 rough with me. But I handled him fairly well and 
 always got business out of him, although sometimes I 
 had to use a little jiu jitsu to do it. 
 
 "Several seasons ago haven't you heard this story, 
 boys ? I was on my way up to his town, Deadwood. 
 While I was down at Broken Bow, I got a telegram 
 from the house which read, "Sam Shoup dead" 
 that was one line and on the next line the message 
 read: "Wood wants goods." 
 
 "I thought this was rather funny when I got hold 
 of the message for I hadn't sold this man Wood 
 
 261 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 for several seasons. He had been a little slow and 
 the house had drawn on him, and I lost him. But 
 I thought maybe things were all patched up again and 
 so I hur'ied on up into the Hills and over to Hot 
 Springs to see Wood. He handled lots of goods and 
 I wanted to get there before somebody else nipped 
 him. Besides, I could double back and catch Chad- 
 ron and those towns along there on my return. 
 
 "I was ve'y sor'y to heah that my friend Sam had 
 croaked. You know, after a man has turned up his 
 toes you can see a whole lot of good points about 
 him that always escaped yo' notice befo' ; so at Broken 
 Bow I wiahed the flo'ist up in Deadwood to send 
 ten dollars worth of roses with my card on over to 
 Mrs. Shoup, that I would see him in a few days and 
 pay him fo' them. I also sent a telegram to the 
 widow, extending my heartfelt sympathy. 
 
 "Well, sir, when I got into the Springs I had 
 my trunk brought right up, opened my samples, befo' 
 I went over to see my friend Wood. When I went 
 into his sto' he said to me, 'Well, Mark, what are 
 you doing here?' 'What am I doing heah,' said I, 
 'Why, the house telegraphed me you wanted some 
 goods.' 'Why, I wouldn't buy any goods from yo' 
 house if I were a millionaire and could get them 
 for ten cents on the dollar. They turned me down 
 once good and ha'd and that's enough fo' me. 
 Where's the telegram? I think you're stringin' me.' 
 1 'No; nothing of the kind,' said I, and I handed 
 
 262 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 him the telegram. Laugh? I never heard a fellow 
 laugh like he did in my life. 
 
 " 'Why, can't you read?' 
 
 " 'Sure! This telegram reads: "Sam Shoup dead. 
 Wood wants goods." 
 
 " 'No,' said Wood. 'That telgram says that Sam 
 Shoup, Deadwood, wants goods. That hasn't any- 
 thing to do with me.' And do you know, boys, that's 
 the first time that I could understan' that telegram ? 
 
 "It was such a good joke, howeveh, that I did jolly 
 Wood into giving me an o'deh. From the Springs I 
 went right up to Deadwood. When I met Sam in 
 his sto' he said to me, 'Veil, Mark, vat are you sent- 
 ing my vife vlowers for, and vat are you extenting 
 your heartfelt sympat'y aboud?' 
 
 "I showed Sam the telegram. 
 
 " 'Veil, veil, veil. I nefer had a ting to happen 
 like dot in my life,' said he. 'Now, I know you are 
 my frient. If you had send dose vlowers while you 
 knew I vas alife, I would have t'ought you done 
 it to sell me a bill but you send 'em ven you t'ought 
 I vas deat. Ged op your stuff, Mark, you bet your 
 life I haf a bill for you. I will make it dobble vat 
 I t'ought I vould. You are de only man dat has 
 proved he vas my frient.' " 
 
 "Did I ever tell you how I got on the south side 
 of Ed Marks?" said Sam Wood. We had nearly all 
 heard this story before, but still it was a pleasure to 
 get Wood started, so we all urged him to proceed. 
 
 263 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, it came about this way," said Sam, squar- 
 ing himself in his chair, as we lit our cigars. "It was 
 in the old flush days, you know. Goodness! How 
 I wish we had some more mining camps now like 
 Ed's old town. Business was business in those days 
 to sell a man ten thousand in clothing was nothing ! 
 Why, IVe sold Ed as much as twenty-five thousand 
 dollars in one season. His account alone, one year, 
 would have supported me. I know one time he came 
 into our store and I took him upstairs and sold him 
 the whole side of the house overcoats that stacked 
 up clear to the ceiling, and he bought them quick as 
 a flash. He just looked at them. He said, 'How 
 much for the lot?' I gave him a price, and before 
 I could snap my finger he said, 'All right, ship them 
 out. Send about a fourth by express and the others 
 right away by freight.' ' 
 
 "Yes, but how did you start him, Sam?" 
 "Oh, I'm just going to get to that now. I was 
 something of a kid when I started out west. IVe 
 always been a plunger, you know. Of course IVe 
 cut out fingering chips for a long time now, but 
 there was no stake too high for me in those days. It 
 cost a whole lot of money to travel out west when 
 I first struck that country. It was before the time 
 when clothing houses sent out swatches in one trunk. 
 They weren't such close propositions then as now. 
 They're trying to put this clothing business now on a 
 dry goods basis. 
 
 264 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, I carried fourteen trunks and five hundred 
 wouldn't last me more than two weeks. I just cashed 
 a draft before I struck Ed's town. I had heard 
 that he was a hard man to handle and I didn't know 
 just exactly how to get at him, but luck was with 
 me. 
 
 "The night I got into town, I went into the den 
 out from the office. You know that in those days the 
 hotels would board suckers for nothing if they would 
 only play their money. I knew Ed by sight and I 
 saw him standing by the faro table. 'Ah, here's my 
 chance,' said I. I pulled out my roll and asked the 
 dealer to give me two hundred in chips. I played 
 him twenty on a turn and then said to the dealer, 
 What's your limit?' The roof's off,' said he. 'All 
 right, 250 on the bullet,' said I, sliding over. '250 
 goes,' said he. I lost. I repeated the bet. I lost 
 again. By this time they began to- crowd around the 
 table. I didn't see Ed then at all, you know, except 
 out of the corner of my eye. I could see that he was 
 getting interested and I saw him put his hand down 
 in his pocket. I lost another 250. Three straight 
 bets of 250 to the bad, but I thought I might just 
 as well be game as not and lose it all at one turn 
 as well as any other way, if I had to lose. All I was 
 playing for was to get an acquaintance with Ed any- 
 how and that was easily worth 500 to me if I could 
 ever get him into my sample room, and I knew it. 
 Gee ! Those were great old times then. 
 
 265 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, I planked up the fourth 250, and won. 
 Then I let the whole 500 lay and " 
 
 "You are pipe dreaming, Wood," spoke up one of 
 the boys. 
 
 "Jim, I can prove this by you. You've seen worse 
 things than this, haven't you?" 
 
 "Bet your life, Wood," and Jim whispered to one 
 of the boys, Wood can prove anything by me.' 
 
 "I let the 500 lay on a copper and I won. From 
 that time on I made no bet for less than half a 
 thousand. At one time I had the dealer pretty close 
 to the bank but I didn't quite put him ashore. 
 
 "Well, to make a long story short, when I quit 
 I was just a thousand to the good. Next day was 
 Sunday. There was a picnic out a mile from town. 
 I said: 
 
 " 'Well, gentlemen, I've done my best to relieve 
 my friend here of all he has, but I can't do it. I 
 am a little to the good and I want you all to go as 
 my guests tomorrow to the picnic. In on this?' said 
 I, and Ed, among others, nodded. 
 
 "I didn't tell him who I was and I didn't ask 
 him who he was. I took it for granted if he said he 
 would go along, he would. Next day a whole van 
 load of us went out to the picnic. We had a bully 
 good time. When we got into the wagon I intro- 
 duced myself to all the gentlemen, not telling them 
 what my business was. When Ed told me his name, 
 he said, 'I'm a resident of this town in the clothing 
 
 266 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 business. Where are you from?' I said, Tm from 
 Chicago and Fm in the clothing business, too, but 
 don't let's talk business. We're out for pleasure to- 
 day.' Well, that suits me,' said Ed, but when we 
 got back to town that night I dropped the rest of 
 the bunch and asked him in to supper with me. Noth- 
 ing too good for him, you know. And while he was 
 under the spell I took him into my sample room that 
 night. You ought to have seen the order that fellow 
 gave me. It struck the house so hard when I sent 
 it in to them that they wired me congratulations." 
 
 "Are you still selling your friend Rubovitz, John- 
 nie?" asked our friend, who had just told us his story, 
 of one of his competitors. 
 
 "Sure," said Johnnie, "and the boy, too. Yes, 
 why shouldn't I?" 
 
 "Well, I guess you should," said Wood. 
 
 "Yes ! when I was in the old man's store on this 
 last trip, I felt really sorry for a first-tripper who 
 struck him to look at his clothng. That fellow hung 
 on and hung on. I was sitting back at the desk 
 and he must have thought I was one of the partners 
 because I was the first man he braced and I referred 
 him to the old gentleman." 
 
 "Well, wasn't that sort of a dangerous thing for 
 you to do?" asked one of the boys. 
 
 "Not on your life. You don't know why it is I 
 have the old man so solid. I've got the hooks on 
 him good and hard, you know." 
 
 267 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, how's that?" 
 
 "Oh, it came about this way," said he. "When I 
 was down in Kansas City a few years ago, when 
 I had finished selling Ruby, as I always called him, 
 you know (he came in from out in the country to 
 meet me this time) I asked him how my little sweet- 
 heart was getting on. She, you know, was his little 
 daughter Leah. She was just as sweet as she could 
 be, great big brown eyes and rich russet cheeks, 
 black curls, bright as a new dollar and sharp as a 
 needle. 
 
 " 'O, she iss a big goil now/ said my friend Ruby. 
 'Say,' said he, 'who vass dot yong feller in the room 
 here a few minutes ago?' He referred to a young 
 friend of mine who had chanced to drop in. 'De 
 reeson I ask iss I am huntin' for a goot, reliable, 
 hart-workin' Yehuda (Jewish) boy for her. I vant 
 her to get married pretty soon now. She iss a nice 
 goil, too.' 
 
 " 'How about a goy (Gentile), Ruby?' said I. 
 
 " 'No, that vont vork. Keln ylddishes Mddchen 
 fur einen Goy und kelne Shickse fur einen yiddishen 
 Jungen.' (No Hebrew girl for a Gentile boy; no 
 Gentile girl for a Hebrew boy.) 
 
 " 'All right, Ruby,' said I. He was such a good, 
 jolly old fellow, and while he was a man in years he 
 was a boy in actions, and Ruby was the only name 
 by which I ever called him. Nothing else would fit. 
 
 268 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 'All right, Ruby,' said I, 'I believe I just know the 
 boy for Leah.' 
 
 'Veil, you know vat I will do. I don'd care eef 
 he iss a poor boy; dot is all ride. I haf money and 
 eef I ged the ride boy for my goil, I vill set him op in 
 peezness. Dot's somet'ing for you to vork for 
 annodder cost'mer,' said he the instinct would crop 
 out. 
 
 "Well, sir, I've got to make this story short," said 
 Johnny, pulling out his watch. "I found the boy. 
 He was a good, clean-cut young fellow, too, and you 
 know the rest." 
 
 "You bet your life I do," said Sam. "Two solid 
 customers that buy every dollar from you." 
 
 "And," continued Johnny, "Leah and Abie are as 
 happy as two birds in a nest. I don't know but these 
 marriages arranged by the old folks turn out as well 
 as the others anyhow." 
 
 "It's not alone by doing a good turn to your cus- 
 tomer that you gain his good will," said the hat man. 
 "Not always through some personal favor, but with 
 all merchants you win by being straight with them. 
 This is the one thing that will always get good will. 
 Now, in my line, for example, new styles are con- 
 stantly cropping out and a merchant must depend 
 upon his hat man to start him right on new blocks. 
 A man in my business can load a customer with a 
 lot of worthless plunder so that his stock will not be 
 worth twenty-five cents on the dollar in a season or 
 
 269 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 two. On the other hand, he can, if he will, select 
 the new styles and keep him from buying too many 
 of them, thereby keeping his stock clean. 
 
 "Yes, and this same thing can be done in all lines," 
 spoke up two or three of the boys. 
 
 u Yes, you bet," continued the hat man, u and when 
 you get a man's good will through the square deal 
 you have him firmer than if you get his confidence in 
 any other way." 
 
 "Sure! Sure!" said the boys, as we dropped our 
 napkins and made for our hats. 
 
 270 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SALESMEN'S DON'TS. 
 
 SALESMEN are told many things they should do ; 
 perhaps they ought to hear a few things they 
 should not do. If there is one thing above all 
 others that a salesman should observe, it is this: 
 
 Don't grouch! 
 
 The surly salesman who goes around carrying 
 with him a big chunk of London fog does himself 
 harm. If the sun does not wish to shine upon him 
 if he is having a little run of hard luck he should 
 turn on himself, even with the greatest effort, a little 
 limelight. He should carry a small sunshine genera- 
 tor in his pocket always. The salesman who ap- 
 proaches his customer with a frown or a blank look 
 upon his face, is doomed right at the start to do no 
 business. His countenance should be as bright as a 
 new tin pan. 
 
 The feeling of good cheer that the salesman has 
 will make his customer cheerful; and unless a cus- 
 tomer is feeling good, he will do little, if any, business 
 with you. 
 
 I do not mean by this that the salesman should 
 have on hand a full stock of cheap jokes and pray, 
 
 271 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 my good friend, never a single smutty one; nothing 
 cheapens a man so much as to tell one of these but 
 he should carry a line of good cheerful wholesome 
 talk. "How are you feeling ?" a customer may ask. 
 u Had a bad cold last night, but feel chipper as a 
 robin this morning." "How's business?" a customer 
 may inquire. "The world is kind to me," should be 
 the reply. The merchant who makes a big success is 
 the cheerful man ; the salesman who whether on the 
 road or behind the counter succeeds, carries with 
 him a long stock of sunshine. 
 
 An old-time clothing man who traveled in Colo- 
 rado once told me this incident : 
 
 "I used to have a customer, several years ago, over 
 in Leadville," said he, "that I had to warm up every 
 time I called around. His family cost him a great 
 deal of money. The old man gave it to them cheer- 
 fully, but he himself would take only a roll and a cup 
 of coffee for breakfast, and, when he got down to the 
 store he felt so poor that he would take a chew of to- 
 bacco and make it last him for the rest of the day. 
 Actually, that man didn't eat enough. And his 
 clothes well, he would dress his daughters in silks 
 but he would wear a hand-me-down until the warp on 
 the under side of his sleeves would wear clear down 
 to the woof. He would wear the bottoms off his 
 trousers until the tailor tucked them under clear to 
 his shoe tops. Smile? I never saw the old man smile 
 in my life when I first met him on my trips. It would 
 
 272 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 always take me nearly a whole day to get him thawed 
 out, and the least thing would make him freeze up 
 again. 
 
 "I remember one time I went to see him you 
 recall him, old man Samuels and, after a great deal 
 of coaxing, got him to come into my sample room 
 in the afternoon. This was a hard thing to do 
 because if he was busy in the store he would not 
 leave and if he wasn't busy, he would say to me, 
 'Vat's de use of buying, Maircus? You see, I doan 
 sell nodding.' 
 
 u But this time I got the old man over to luncheon 
 with me we were old friends, you know and I 
 jollied him up until he was in a good humor. Then 
 I took him into the sample room, and little by little, 
 he laid out a line of goods. Just about the time 
 he had finished it, it grew a little cloudy. 
 
 "Now, you know how the sun shines in Colorado? 
 From one side of the state to the other it seldom gets 
 behind a cloud. In short, it shines there 360 days 
 in the year. It had been bright and clear all morning 
 and all the time, in fact, until the old man had laid 
 out his line of goods. Then he happened to look 
 out of the window, and what do you suppose he said 
 to me? 
 
 " 'Veil, Maircus, I like you and I like your goots, 
 but, ach Himmel! der clooty vetter!' And, do you 
 know, I couldn't get the old man to do any business 
 with me because he thought the sun was never going 
 
 273 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to shine again? I cannot understand just how he 
 argued it with himself, but he was deaf to all of my 
 coaxing. Finally I said to him : 
 
 u 'Sam, you are kicking about the cloudy weather 
 but I will make you a present of a box of cigars if 
 the sun does not shine before we write down this or- 
 der.' 
 
 "The old man was something of a gambler, in 
 fact the one pleasure of his life was to play penochle 
 for two bits a corner after he closed up. So he said 
 to me, 'Veil, Maircus, you can wride down der orter, 
 and eef dot sun shines before ve get t'rough, you 
 can sheep der goots.' 
 
 "This was the first time that I ever played a game 
 against the Powers That Be. I started in and the 
 sky grew darker and darker. I monkeyed along for an 
 hour and a half, and, just to kill time, tried to switch 
 the old man from patterns he had selected to others 
 that I 'thought would be a little better.' But the 
 Powers were against me, and when I finished writing 
 down the order it was cloudier than ever and nearly 
 night, too. 
 
 "Then an idea struck me. 'Now, Sam,' said I, 
 'I've had a cinch on you all the time. You told me 
 you were going to take this bill if the sun was shining 
 when we got through writing down this order. Don't 
 you know, Sam,' said I, laughing at him, 'the sun 
 does shine and must shine every day. Sometimes a 
 little cloud comes between it and the earth but that, 
 
 274 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 you know, will soon pass away, and, cloud or no 
 cloud, the sun shines just the same.' 
 
 " 'Veil, Maircus,' said the old man, 'I cannod see 
 any sunshine out der vindow, but dere's so much off 
 id in your face dot you can sheep dot bill.' 'Well, 
 Sam/ said I, 'if that's the case, I guess I will buy 
 you that box of cigars.' ' 
 
 Another thing : Don't beef! 
 
 There is a slight difference between the "grouch" 
 and the "beef." The man may be grouchy without 
 assuming to give a reason therefor, but when he 
 "beefs" he usually thinks there is cause for it. I 
 knew a man who once lost a good customer just be- 
 cause he beefed when a man to whom he had sold a 
 bill of goods countermanded the order. The mer- 
 chant was stretching his capital in his business to the 
 limit. Things grew a little dull with him and he 
 figured it out, after he had placed all of his orders, 
 that he had bought too many goods. He used the 
 hatchet a little all the way around. I had some of 
 my own order cut off, but instead of kicking about it, 
 I wrote him that he could even cut off more if he 
 felt it was to his advantage; that I did not wish to 
 load him up with more than he could use ; that when 
 the time came that I knew his business better than 
 he did it would then be time for me to buy him out. 
 But a friend of mine did not take this same turn. 
 Instead, he wrote to the man and the merchant 
 thought a good deal of him, personally, too that he 
 
 275 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 had bought the goods in good faith, that expense had 
 been made in selling the bill and that he ought to 
 keep them. 
 
 "Well, now, that was the very worst thing he 
 could have done because it went against the customer's 
 grain. He let his countermand stand and since that 
 time he has never bought any more goods from his 
 old friend. He simply marked him off his list be- 
 cause it was very plain to him that the friendship 
 of the past had been for what there was in it. 
 
 Don't fail to make a friend of your fellow sales- 
 man! 
 
 This can never do you any harm and you will 
 find that it will often do you good. The heart of 
 the man on the road should be as broad as the prairie 
 and as free from narrowness as the Egyptian sky is 
 free of clouds. One of my friends once told a 
 group of us, as we traveled together, how an acquaint- 
 ance he made helped him. 
 
 "I got into Dayton, Washington, one summer 
 morning about 4:30," said he. "Another one of 
 the boys a big, strong, good-natured comrade 
 until then a stranger to me and myself were the 
 only ones left at the little depot when the jerk-water 
 train pulled away. It was the first trip to this town 
 for both of us. There was no 'bus at the depot and 
 we did not know just how to get up to the hotel. 
 The morning was fine such a one as makes a fellow 
 feel good clear down to the ground. The air was 
 
 276 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 sweet with the smell of the dewy grass. The clouds 
 in the east kind of smeared across the sky began to 
 redden; they were the color of coral as we picked our 
 way along the narrow plank walk. As we left behind 
 us the bridge, which crossed a beautiful little stream 
 lined with cotton woods and willows, they had turned 
 a bright vermillion. There was not a mortal to 
 be seen besides ourselves. The only sound that inter- 
 rupted our conversation was the crowing of the 
 roosters. The leaves were still. It was just the right 
 time for the beginning of a friendship between two 
 strangers. 
 
 " 'Isn't this glorious !' exclaimed my friend. 
 
 " 'Enchanting !' I answered. I believe I would 
 have made friends w r ith a crippled grizzly bear that 
 morning. But this fellow was a whole-souled prince. 
 We forgot all about business, and the heavy grips 
 that we lugged up to the hotel seemed light. All I 
 remember further was that my friend for he had 
 now become that to me and myself went out to 
 hunt up a cup of coffee after we had set down our 
 grips in the hotel office. 
 
 "The next time I met that man was at the Penn- 
 sylvania Station at Philadelphia, ten years afterward, 
 at midnight. We knew each other on sight. 
 
 " 'God bless you, old man,' said he. 'Do you 
 know me?' 
 
 " Tou bet your life I do,' said I. 'We walked 
 together one morning, ten years ago, from the depot 
 
 277 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 at Dayton, Washington, to the hotel.' 'Do you re- 
 member that sunrise ?' 'Well, do I ?' 'What are you 
 doing down here ?' 'Oh, just down on business. The 
 truth is, I am going down to New York. My house 
 failed recently and I'm on the look-out for a job.' 
 
 4 'And do you know, boys, that very fellow fixed 
 me up before ten o'clock next morning, with the 
 people that I am with today, and you know whether 
 or not I am getting on." 
 
 Don't fail to be friendly with any one who comes 
 in your way. 
 
 Another of the boys in the little group that had 
 just listened to this story, after hearing it, said: 
 "You bet your life it never hurts a fellow to be 
 friendly with anybody. Once, when I was going 
 down from a little Texas town to Galveston, the 
 coach was rather crowded. The only vacant seats in 
 the whole car were where two Assyrian peddler 
 women sat in a double seat with their packs of wares 
 opposite them. But as I came in they very kindly 
 put some of their bundles into the space underneath 
 where the backs of two seats were turned together, 
 thus making room for me. I sat down with them. 
 A gentleman behind me remarked, 'Those people 
 aren't so bad after all.' 'Yes,' I said, 'you will find 
 good in every one if you only know how to get it 
 out.' 
 
 "I had a long and interesting talk with that gen- 
 
 278 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tleman. He gave me his card and when I saw his 
 name I recognized that he was a noted lecturer." 
 
 "Well, what good did that do you?" said one of 
 the boys who was not far-seeing. 
 
 "Good? Why that man asked me to come to his 
 home. There I met one of his sons who was an 
 advertising man for a very large firm in Galveston. 
 He, in turn, introduced me to the buyer in his store 
 and put in a good word with him for me. I had 
 never been able to really get the buyer's attention 
 before this time but this led me into a good account. 
 You know, I don't care anything for introductions 
 where I can get at a man without them. I'd rather 
 approach a man myself straight out than to have 
 any one introduce me to him, but there are cases 
 where you really cannot get at a man without some 
 outside influence. This was a case where it did me 
 good. 
 
 But, with all this, don't depend upon your old 
 friends! 
 
 A salesman's friends feel that when he approaches 
 them he* does so because they are his friends, and not 
 because he has goods to sell that have value. They 
 will not take the same interest in his merchandise that 
 they will in that of a stranger. They will give him, 
 it is true, complimentary orders, charity-bird bills, but 
 these are not the kind that count. Every old man on 
 the road will tell you that he has lost many customers 
 by making personal friends of them. No man, no 
 
 279 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 matter how warm a friend his customer may be, 
 should fail, when he does business with him, to give 
 him to understand that the goods he is getting are 
 worth the money that he pays for them. This will 
 make a business friendship built upon confidence, and 
 the business friend may afterward become the per- 
 sonal friend. A personal friendship will often follow 
 a business friendship but business friendship will not 
 always follow personal regard. Every man on the 
 road has on his order book the names of a few who 
 are exceptions to this rule. He values these friends, 
 because the general rule of the road is: "Make a 
 personal friend lose a customer 1" 
 
 Don't switch lines! 
 
 The man who has a good house should never 
 leave it unless he goes with one that he knows to be 
 much better and with one that will assure him of a 
 good salary for a long time. 
 
 Even then, a man often makes a mistake to his 
 sorrow. He will find that many whom he has thought 
 his personal friends are merely his business friends; 
 that they have bought goods from him because they 
 have liked the goods he sold. It is better for a man 
 to try to improve the line he carries even though 
 it may not suit him perfectly than to try his luck 
 with another one. Merchants are conservative. They 
 never put in a line of goods unless it strikes them as 
 being better than the one that they are carrying, and 
 when they have once established a line of goods that 
 
 280 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 suits them, and when they have built a credit with a 
 certain wholesale house, they do not like to fly around 
 because the minute that they switch from one brand 
 of goods that they are carrying to another, the old 
 goods have become to them mere job lots, while if 
 they continued to fill in upon a certain brand, the old 
 stock would remain just as valuable as the new. 
 
 One of my old friends had a strong personality 
 but w y as a noted changer. He is one of the best sales- 
 men on the road but he has always changed himself 
 out. He was a shoe man. I met him one day as he 
 was leaving Lincoln, Nebraska. "Well, Andy," 
 said I, "I guess you got a good bill from your old 
 friend here." 
 
 "Ah, friend?" said he. "I thought that fellow 
 was my friend, but he quit me cold this time. Didn't 
 give me a sou. And do you know that this time I 
 have a line just as good as any I ever carried in my 
 life. I got him to go over to look, but what did he 
 say ? That he'd bought. And the worst of it is that 
 he bought from the house I have just left and from 
 the man that I hate from the ground up. Now, 
 he's not any friend of mine any more. The man's 
 your friend who buys goods from you." 
 
 I didn't have very much to say, for this man had 
 been loyal to me, but when I went to Lincoln again 
 I chanced to be talking to the merchant, and he said 
 to me: 
 
 "Do you know, I like Andy mighty well. I tried 
 
 281 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to be a friend to him. When I first started with him 
 I bought from him the "Solid Comfort." He talked 
 to me and said that Solid Comforts were the thing, 
 that they had a big reputation and that I would 
 profit by the advertising that thjey had. Well, I took 
 him at his word. I used to know him when I was a 
 clerk, you know, and bought from him on his say-so, 
 the Solid Comfort. I handled these a couple of 
 years and got a good trade built up on them, and then 
 he came around and said, 'Well, Fve had to drop the 
 old line. I think I'm going to do lots better with the 
 house I'm with now. The "Easy Fitter" is their 
 brand. Now, you see there isn't very much differ- 
 ence between "the Easy Fitters and the Solid Com- 
 forts, and you won't have any trouble in changing 
 your people over.' 
 
 "Well, I changed, and do you know I was in 
 trouble just as soon as I began to run out of sizes of 
 Solid Comforts. People had worn them and they 
 had given satisfaction and they wanted more of them. 
 Still, I didn't buy any at all and talked my lungs out 
 selling the Easy Fitters. 
 
 "Well, it wasn't but a couple of years later when 
 Andy came around with another line. This time he 
 had about the same old story to tell. I said to him, 
 'Now, look here, Andy, I've had a good -deal of 
 trouble selling this second line you sold me instead 
 of the first. People still come in and ask for them. 
 I have got them, however, changed over fairly well 
 
 282 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to the Easy Fitters, and I don't want to go through 
 with this old trouble again.' 
 
 " 'Aw, come on,' said he, 'a shoe's a shoe. What's 
 the difference?' And, out of pure friendship, I went 
 with him again and bought the "Correct Shape." I 
 had the same old trouble over again, only it was 
 worse. The shoes were all right but I had lots of diffi- 
 culty making people think so. So when Andy made this 
 trip and had another line, I had to come right out 
 and say, 'Andy, I can't do business with you. I have 
 followed you three times from the Solid Comfort 
 to the Easy Fitter, and from the Easy Fitter to the 
 Correct Shape, but now I have already bought those 
 and I can't give you a thing. I am going to be frank 
 with you and say that I would rather buy goods from 
 you, Andy, than from any other man I know of, but 
 still Number One must come first. If you were with 
 your old people, I would be only too glad to buy from 
 you, but you've mixed me up so on my shoe stock 
 that it wouldn't be worth fifty cents on the dollar 
 if I were to change lines again. I will give you 
 money out of my pocket, Andy,' said I, 'but I'm not 
 going to put another new line on my shelves." 
 
 Don't fall on prices! 
 
 The man who does this will not gain the confi- 
 dence of the man to whom he shows his goods. 
 Without this he cannot sell a merchant successfully. 
 A hat man once told me of an experience. 
 
 "When I first started on the road," said he, "I 
 
 283 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 learned one thing not to break on prices when a 
 merchant asked me to come down. I was in Dubuque. 
 It was about my fourth trip to the town. I had been 
 selling one man there but his business hadn't been as 
 much as it should, and I kept on the lookout for an- 
 other customer. Besides, the town was big enough 
 to stand two, anyway. I had been working hard on 
 one of the largest clothing merchants, who carried 
 my line, in the town. Finally I got him over to my 
 sample room. I showed him my line but he said to 
 me, 'Your styles are all right but your prices are too 
 high. Vy, here is a hat you ask me twelf tollars for. 
 Vy, I buy 'em from my olt house for eleven feefty. 
 You cannot expect me to buy goods from you ven 
 you ask me more than odders.' 
 
 "I had just received a letter from the house about 
 cutting, and they had given it to me so hard that I 
 thought I would ask the prices they wanted for their 
 goods, and if I couldn't sell them that way, I 
 wouldn't sell them at all. I hadn't learned to be 
 honest then for its own sake ; honesty is a matter of 
 education, anyway. So I told my customer, 'No; 
 the first price I made you was the bottom price. I'll 
 not vary it for you. I'd be a nice fellow to ask you 
 one price and then come down to another. If I did 
 anything like that I couldn't walk into your store with 
 a clear conscience and shake you by the hand. I've 
 simply made you my lowest price in the beginning 
 and I hope you can use the goods at these figures, but 
 
 284 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 if you can't, I cannot take an order from you.' Well, 
 he bought the goods at my prices, paying me $12 
 for what he said he could get for $i 1.50. 
 
 "A few days after that I met a fellow salesman 
 who was selling clothing. He said to me, 'By Jove, 
 my boy, you're going to get a good account over there 
 in Dubuque, do you know that ? The man you sold 
 there told me he liked the way you did business. He 
 said he tried his hardest to beat you down on prices 
 but that you wouldn't stand for it, and that he had 
 confidence in you.' 
 
 u And, sure enough, I sold that man lots of goods 
 for many years, and I thus learned early in my career 
 not to fall on prices. If a man is going to do any 
 cutting, the time to do it is at the beginning of his 
 trip when he marks his samples. He should do this 
 in plain figures and he should in no way vary from 
 his original price. If he does, he should be man 
 enough to send a rebate to those from whom he has 
 obtained higher prices. If a man will follow out 
 this method he will surely succeed." 
 
 Don't give away things! 
 
 This same hat man told me another experience 
 he met with on that same trip. Said he, "I went in 
 to see a man in eastern Nebraska. He was the one 
 man on that trip who told me when I first mentioned 
 business that he wanted some hats and that he would 
 buy mine if they suited him. This looked to me like 
 a push-over. Purely out of ignorance and good- 
 
 285 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 heartedness, when he came to my sample room (I 
 was a new man on the road), because he had been 
 the first man who said he wanted some goods, I of- 
 fered him a fine hat and do you know, he not only 
 would not take the hat from me but he did not buy a 
 bill. I learned from another one of the boys that 
 he turned me down because I offered to make him a 
 present. This is a rule which is not strictly adhered 
 to, but if I were running a wholesale house I should 
 let nothing be given to a customer. He will think a 
 great deal more of the salesman if that salesman 
 makes him pay for what he gets. 
 
 A salesman may be liberal and free in other ways, 
 but when he gets to doing business he should not let 
 it appear that he is trying to buy it. Of course it is 
 all right and the proper thing to be a good fellow 
 when the opportunity comes about in a natural kind 
 of way. If you are in your customer's store, say, 
 at late closing time on Saturday night, it is but natural 
 for you to say to him : u Morris, I had a poor supper. 
 I wonder if we can't go around here somewhere and 
 dig up something to eat." You can also say to the 
 clerks, "Come along, boys, you are all in on this. 
 My house is rich. You've worked hard to-day and 
 need a little recreation." But such courtesies as these, 
 unless they fit in gracefully and naturally, would bet- 
 ter never be offered. 
 
 Don't think any one too big or too hard for you 
 to tackle. 
 
 286 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 If the salesman cannot depend upon his friends, 
 then he must find his customers among strangers, I 
 remember a man selling children's shoes, out in Ore- 
 gon, who had not been able to get a looker even in 
 the town. He was talking to a little bunch of us, 
 enumerating those on whom he had called. The last 
 one he spoke of was the big shoeman of the town. 
 He said, "But I can't do anything with that fellow; 
 why, his brother, who is his partner, sells shoes on 
 the road." 
 
 "I'm all through with my business," spoke up a 
 drygoods man, "but I'll bet the cigars that I can 
 make Hoover (the shoeman) come and look at your 
 stuff. That is, I'll make out to him that I'm selling 
 shoes and I bet you that I'll bring him to my sample 
 
 room." 
 
 "Well, I'll just take that bet," said the shoeman. 
 
 About this time I left for the depot. The next 
 time I saw the drygoods man I asked him how he 
 came out on that bet. 
 
 "Oh, I'd forgoten all about that," said he. "Well, 
 I'll tell you. Just after you left I went right down 
 to the shoeman's store. I found him back in his of- 
 fice writing some letters. I walked right up to him 
 you know I didn't have anything to lose except the 
 cigars and their having the laugh on me and I said, 
 'You are Mr. Hoover, I am sure. Now, sir, you are 
 busy and what little I have to say I shall make very 
 short to you, sir. My house gives its entire energy 
 
 287 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to the manufacture of foot covers for little folks. My 
 line is complete and my prices are right. If you have 
 money and are able to buy for cash on delivery, I 
 should be glad to show you my line/ 
 
 " 'I have bought everything for this season/ said 
 Hoover. 
 
 " 'Perhaps you think you have, Mr. Hoover, but 
 do you wish to hold a blind bridle over your eyes and 
 not see what's going on in your business? Do I not 
 talk as if my firm were first class? I have come 
 straight to you without any beating around the bush. 
 I don't intend to offer any suggestions as to how you 
 should run your business, but ask yourself if you can 
 afford to pass up looking at a representative line. 
 You've heard of my firm, have you not? And I 
 made up some firm name for him. 
 
 " 'No, I have not. I'm not interested in any new 
 houses.' 
 
 " 'Not interested in any new houses !' said I. 'The 
 very fact that you don't even know the name of my 
 firm is all the greater reason why you should come 
 and see what sort of stuff they turn out.' 
 
 " 'Yes, but I've bought; what's the use?' said he. 
 
 " 'At least to post yourself,' I replied. 
 
 " 'Well, I might as well come out and tell you,' 
 said the shoeman, 'that my brother owns an interest 
 in this business and that we handle his line ex- 
 clusively.' 
 
 'Then you mean to tell me that for your store 
 
 288 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 here you are picking from one line of goods and are 
 trying to compete with other merchants in this town 
 who have the chance of buying from scores of lines. 
 Now, your brother is certainly a very poor salesman 
 if he can't sell enough shoes to make a living on 
 aside from those that he sells to his own store. Should 
 he not let his wholesale business and his retail busi- 
 ness be separate from one another? You yourself 
 are interested in this concern and ought you not to 
 have something to say? To be sure, when it comes 
 to an even break you should by all means give your 
 brother and his firm the preference; but do you be- 
 lieve that either you or he should have goods come 
 into this house from his firm when you are able to get 
 them better from some other place ?' 
 
 " 'No, I don't believe that is exactly business and 
 we don't aim to.' 
 
 " 'Well, if such is the case,' said I, 'come up and 
 see what I have.' 
 
 " 'Well, I'll just go you one,' said the shoeman. 
 
 "Do you know, I had him walk with me up to the 
 hotel he was a good jolly fellow and when I 
 marched into the office with him, I called the chil- 
 dren's shoe man over and introduced him. 
 
 "He said, 'Well, this is one on me,' and then ex- 
 plained the bet to Hoover and bought the cigars for 
 three instead of two." 
 
 Don't put prices on another man's goods! 
 
 I once had a merchant pass me out an article he 
 
 289 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 had bought from another man. u How much is that 
 worth?" he asked. 'That I shall not tell you," I 
 answered. "Suppose it is worth $24 a dozen. If 
 I say it is worth $30, then you will say to me: 
 There's no use doing business with you, this other 
 man's goods are cheaper, you've confessed it.' If 
 I say that it is worth $24 a dozen, then you will 
 say to me that I'm not offering you any advantage. 
 If I say it is worth $18 a dozen, you will believe that 
 I am telling you a lie. Therefore, I shall say 
 nothing." 
 
 Don't run down your competitor. 
 
 In talking of this point a furnishing goods man 
 once said to me : u When I first went to travel in Mis- 
 souri and Illinois I was green. I had a whole lot to 
 learn, but still I had been posted by one of my friends 
 who told me that I should always treat my compet- 
 itor with especial courtesy. When I was on my 
 first trip I met one of my competitors one day at a 
 hotel in Springfield. I was introduced to him by one 
 of the boys. I chatted with him as pleasantly as I 
 could for a few minutes and then went up street to 
 look for a customer. 
 
 u After dinner I was standing by the cigar case 
 talking to the hotel clerk. Up came my competitor 
 very pompously and bought a half dollar's worth of 
 cigars. As he lighted one and stuck all the others 
 into his pocket case he said to me in a 'What-are- 
 you?' fashion, 'Oh, how are you?' and away he 
 
 290 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 walked. Heavens, how he froze me ! But from that 
 day to this, while I have outwardly always treated 
 him civilly, his customers have been the ones that I 
 have gone after the hardest and you bet your life 
 that I've put many of his fish on my string. 
 
 Don't run down the other fellow's goods! 
 
 When a salesman tells merchants that he can 
 sell them goods that are better, for the same 
 price or cheaper than he is buying them, he at once 
 offers an insult to the merchant's judgment. One of 
 my merchant friends once told me of a breezy young 
 chap who came into his store and asked him how 
 much he paid for a certain suit of clothes that was on 
 the table. u This young fellow was pretty smart," 
 said my merchant friend. "He asked me how much 
 I paid for a cheviot. I told him $9. He said, 
 'Nine dollars ! Well, I can sell you one just like that 
 for $7.' 'All right, I'll take fifty suits,' said I. 
 
 "About that time I turned away to wait on a cus- 
 tomer and in an hour or so the young fellow came in 
 again and said, 'Well, my line is all opened up now, 
 and if you like we can run over to my sample room.' 
 'Why, there's no use of doing that,' said I. 'You 
 tell me that you can sell me goods just exactly like 
 what I have for $2 a suit cheaper. No use of my 
 going over to look at them. Just send them along. 
 Here, I can buy lots of goods from you.' 
 
 " 'Oh, they're not exactly like these, but pretty near 
 it,' said he. 
 
 291 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " 'Well, if they're not exactly like these I don't 
 care for them at all because these suit me exactly.' 
 
 "With this the young fellow took a tumble to 
 himself and let me alone." 
 
 Don't carry side lines! 
 
 You might just as well mix powder with sawdust. 
 If you scatter yourself from one force to another 
 you weaken the force which you should put into your 
 one line. If this does not pay you, quit it altogether. 
 
 Don't take a conditional order! 
 
 If your customer cannot make up his mind while 
 you can bring your arguments to bear upon him in 
 his presence, you may depend upon it he will never 
 talk himself into ordering your goods. If you can 
 lead a merchant to the point of saying, "Well, I'll 
 take a memorandum of your stock numbers and may- 
 be I'll send in for some of these things later," and 
 not get him to budge any further, and if you lend 
 him your pencil to write down that conditional order, 
 you will be simply wasting a little black lead and a 
 whole lot of good time. 
 
 There are many more "Don'ts" for the salesman 
 but I shall leave you to figure out the rest of them 
 for yourself but just one more : 
 
 DON'T be ashamed that you are a salesman! 
 
 Salesmanship is just as much a profession as law, 
 medicine, or anything else, and salesmanship also 
 has its reward. 
 
 Salesmanship requires special study, and the fact 
 
 292 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 that the schools of salesmanship which are now start- 
 ing are patronized not only by those who wish to be- 
 come salesmen but also by those who wish to be more 
 successful in their work, shows that there is an in- 
 terest awakening in this profession. 
 
 There is a science of salesmanship, whether the 
 salesman knows it or not. If he will only get the 
 idea that he can study his profession and profit there- 
 by, this idea in his head will turn out to be worth 
 a great deal to him. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MERCHANTS THE SALESMAN MEETS. 
 
 A BUNCH of us sat in the Silver Grill of the 
 Hotel Spokane where we could see the gold 
 fish and the baby turtles swimming in the pool 
 of the ferned grotto in the center of the room. This 
 is one place toward which the heart of every traveling 
 man who wanders in the far Northwest turns when 
 he has a few days of rest between trips. Perhaps 
 more good tales- of the road are told in this room 
 than in any other in the West. There is an air about 
 the place that puts one at ease the brick floor, the 
 hewn logs that support the ceiling and frame in the 
 pictures of English country life around the walls, 
 the big, comfortable, black-oak chairs, and the open 
 fireplace, before which spins a roasting goose or 
 turkey. 
 
 "Yes, you bet we strike some queer merchants on 
 / the road, boys," said the children's clothing man. 
 U I ran into- one man out west of here and it did me a 
 whole lot of good to get even with him. He was 
 one of those suspicious fellows that trusted to his 
 own judgment about buying goods rather than place 
 faith in getting square treatment from the traveling 
 
 294 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 man. You all know how much pleasure it gives us 
 to trump the sure trick of one of this kind. I don't 
 believe that merchants, anyway, know quite how in- 
 dependent the traveling man feels who represents a 
 first class house and has a well established trade. 
 Not many of the boys, though, wear the stiff neck 
 even though their lines are strong and they have a 
 good cinch on their business. There isn't much 
 chance, as a general thing, for any of us to grow a 
 big bump of conceit. A man who is stuck on him- 
 self doesn't last long, it matters not how good the 
 stuff is that he sells. Yet, once in a while he lifts up 
 his bristles. 
 
 "Well, sir, a few seasons ago I sold a man you 
 all know who I mean about half of his spring bill, 
 amounting to $600. He gave the other half to one 
 of the rottenest lines that comes out of this country 
 When I learned where my good friend had bought 
 the other half of his bill, I felt sure that the follow- 
 ing season I would land him for his whole order; 
 but when I struck him that next season, he said, 'No, 
 I've bought. You can't expect to do business with 
 me on the sort of stuff that you are selling,' and he 
 said it in such a mean way that it made me mad as 
 blazes. Yet I threw a blanket around myself and 
 cooled off. It always harms a man, anyway, to fly off 
 the handle. I wasn't sure of another bill in the town 
 as it was getting a little late in the season. 
 
 "After he had told me what he did, he started to 
 
 295 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 wait on a customer and I went to the hotel to open 
 up. Just as I was coming through the office I met 
 another merchant in the town who handled as many 
 goods as my old customer, and I boned him right 
 there to give me a look. 'All right,' said he, 'I will, 
 after luncheon.' Come down about half past one 
 when all the boys are back to the store and I'll run 
 over with you.' You know it sometimes comes easy 
 like this. 
 
 "I sold him his entire line, and he was pleased with 
 what he bought because the old line he had been 
 handling, he told me frankly, had not been giving 
 satisfaction. 
 
 u just for curiosity's sake I dropped in on my old 
 man. I wanted to find out exactly what he was kick- 
 ing about, anyway. 
 
 " 'Now, what's the matter with this stuff I've sold 
 you?' said I to him. 
 
 " 'Well, come and see for yourself,' said he. 
 'Here, look at this stuff,' and he threw out three or 
 four numbers of boys' goods. 'That's the punkest 
 plunder,' said he, 'that I ever had in my house.' 
 
 "I at once saw that the goods he showed me were 
 the other fellow's, but I kept quiet for a while. 'Look 
 at your bill,' said I. 'There must be some mistake 
 about this.' He turned to the bill from my house 
 and he couldn't find the stock numbers. 'Well, that's 
 funny,' said he. 'Not at all,' I replied. 'Look at the 
 other man's bill and see if you don't find them.' 
 
 296 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Well, sir, when he saw that the goods he was 
 kicking about had come from my competitor's house, 
 he swore like a trooper and said to me, 'Well, I will 
 simply countermand this order I have given and 
 I'll go right up with you and buy yours.' 
 
 " 'No, I guess not,' said I. 'When I came in this 
 morning you condemned me without giving me a full 
 hearing and you weren't very nice about it, either, so 
 I've just placed my line with your neighbor. I will 
 show you the order 1 have just taken from him,' said 
 I, handing over my order book." 
 
 "Well, that must have made you feel good," spoke 
 up the shoeman. "I had pretty much the same sort 
 of an experience this very season down south here. 
 I had been calling on a fair-sized merchant in the 
 town for a couple of years. The first time I went to 
 his town I sold him a handful. The next time I 
 sold him another handful. The third time I called 
 on him he didn't give me any more business. I had 
 just about marked him down for a piker. You know 
 how we all love those pikers, anyway. These fellows 
 who buy a little from you and a little from the other 
 fellow in fact, a little from every good line that 
 comes around just to keep the other merchants in 
 the town from getting the line and not giving enough 
 to any one man to justify him in taking care of the 
 account or caring anything about it. He was one of 
 those fellows who would cut off his nose and his ears 
 and burn his eyes out just to spite his face. 
 
 297 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "This trip, as usual, I sold him his little jag. I didn't 
 say anything to him, but thought it was high time 
 I was going out and looking up another customer. 
 I finally found another man who gave me a decent 
 bill between seven and eight hundred dollars and 
 he promised me that he would handle my line right 
 along if the stuff turned out all O.K. He said he 
 wasn't the biggest man in the town at that time but 
 that his business was growing steadily and that he 
 had just sold a farm and was going to put more 
 money into the business and enlarge the store. He 
 struck me as being the man in the town for me. 
 
 "My piker friend had seen me walking over to the 
 sample room with this other man. When I dropped 
 around, after packing up, to say good-bye, he said 
 to me, *I saw you going over to your sample room 
 with this man down street here. I suppose, of course, 
 you didn't sell him anything?' 
 
 " To be sure I did,' said I. Why, why shouldn't 
 I? You haven't been giving me enough to pay my 
 expenses in coming to the town, much less to leave any 
 profit for me.' 
 
 " 'Well, if you can't sell me exclusively, you can't 
 sell me at all,' said he, rearing back. 
 
 " 'All right,' said I. 'I won't sell you at all if 
 that's the case. Here's your order. Do with it what 
 you please. In fact, I won't even grant you that 
 privilege. I myself shall call it off. Here goes.' 
 And with this I tore up his order." 
 
 298 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Served him right/' said the men's clothing man. 
 "Did you ever know Grain out on the Great North- 
 ern?" 
 
 "Sure," said the shoe man. "Who doesn't know 
 that pompous know-it-all?" 
 
 "Well, sir, do you know that fellow isn't satisfied 
 with any one he deals \vith, and he thinks that this 
 whole country belongs to him. He wrote me several 
 seasons ago to come out to see him. He had heard 
 one of the boys speak well of my line of goods. I 
 went to his town and first thing I did was to open 
 up. Then I went into his store and told him I was 
 all ready. 
 
 " 'Well, I've decided,' said he, 'that I won't buy 
 anything in your line this season.' 
 
 " 'You will at least come over and give me a look, 
 in that I have come over at your special request, will 
 you not?" 
 
 " 4 NO, no ! No is no with me, sir.' 
 
 "I couldn't get him over there. He went into his 
 office and closed the door behind him. I had hard 
 lines in the town that season. I went up to see an- 
 other man and told him the circumstances but he- 
 said, 'No, I don't play any second fiddle,' and do you 
 know, I didn't blame him a bit. 
 
 "I had made up my mind to mark this town off 
 my list, but you know, business often comes to us 
 from places where we least expect it. This is one of 
 the things which make road life interesting. How 
 
 299 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 often it happens that you fully believe before you 
 start out that you are going to do business in cer- 
 tain places and how often your best laid plans 'gang 
 aglee !' 
 
 "Another man in this town wrote in to the house 
 (this was last season) for me to- come to see him. In 
 his letter he said that he was then clerking for Grain 
 and he was going to quit there and start up on his 
 own hook. Somehow or other the old man got on to 
 the fact that his clerk was going to start up and 
 that he had written in for my line. He was just 
 that mean that he w r anted to put as many stones in 
 the path of his old clerk as he possibly could, and 
 I don't know whether it was by accident or design 
 that Grain came in here to Spokane the same day that 
 his old clerk did, or not. At any rate, they were here 
 together. 
 
 "Just about the time I had finished selling my bill 
 to Grain's clerk, the old man 'phoned up to my room 
 that he would like to see me. This time he was sweet 
 as sugar. I asked him over the 'phone what he 
 wished. He said, Td like to buy some goods from 
 you. 'Don't care to sell you,' I answered over the 
 wire. His old clerk was right there in the room then 
 and he was good, too. He had got together two or 
 three well-to-do farmers in the neighborhood and 
 had organized a big stock company with the capital 
 stock fully paid up. The whole country had become 
 tired of Grain and his methods, and a new man stood 
 
 300 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 a mighty good chance for success and you know, 
 boys, what a bully good business he has built up. 
 
 " 'Why, what's the mater?' 'phoned back the old 
 man. 
 
 " 'Just simply this: that I have sold another man 
 in your town, and I don't care to place my line with 
 more than one,' I answered. 'Who is it?' said he. 
 I told him. 
 
 " 'Well, now, look here,' he came back at me. 
 'That fellow's just a tidbit. He thinks he's going to 
 cut some ice out there, but he won't last long, and, 
 do you know, if you'll just simply chop his bill off, 
 I'll promise to buy right now twice as much as he 
 has bought from you.' 
 
 "If there's a man on the road who is contemptible 
 in the eyes of his fellow traveling men, it is the one 
 who will solicit a countermand; and the merchant 
 who will do this sort of a trick is even worse, you 
 know, boys, in our eyes. 
 
 " 'What do you take me for?' I 'phoned back. 
 'I'm very glad to have a chance, sir, to give you a dose 
 of your own medicine. You can't run any such a 
 sandy as this on me,' and I hung up the 'phone on him 
 without giving him the satisfaction of talking it out 
 any further. To be sure, I would not go down stairs 
 to look him up. 
 
 "Well, that must have pleased the old man's 
 clerk," said one of the boys. 
 
 301 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 u Sure it did. He touched the button and made 
 me have a two-bit straight cigar on him." 
 
 "You got even with him all right," said one of my 
 hat friends who was in the party ; but let me tell you 
 how a merchant dow r n in Arkansas once fixed me and 
 my house." 
 
 u Old Benzine?" said the shoeman. 
 
 u Sure; that's the fellow. How did you hear about 
 it?" 
 
 "Well, my house got it the same way yours did." 
 
 "Ah, that fellow was a smooth one," continued 
 the hat man. "He had burned out so often that he 
 had been nicknamed Benzine, but still he had plenty 
 of money and though my house knew he was tricky, 
 they let him work them. I didn't know anything 
 about the old man's reputation when I called on 
 him. He had recently come down into Arkansas 
 this was when I traveled down there and opened 
 up a new store in one of my old towns. I didn't have 
 a good customer in the town and in shopping about 
 fell in on Benzine. 
 
 "He kicked hard about looking at my goods when 
 I asked him to do so. He knew how to play his game 
 all right. He knew that I would bring all sorts of 
 persuasions to bear upon him to get him started over 
 to my sample room, and just about the time he 
 thought I was going to quit he said, 'Veil, I look but 
 I vont gif you an orter.' Of course that was all I 
 wished for. When a man on the road can get a mer- 
 
 302 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 chant to say he will look at his goods, he knows that 
 the merchant wishes to buy from somebody in his 
 line and he feels that he has ninety-nine chances in a 
 hundred of selling him. 
 
 "That afternoon Old Benzine came over and he 
 was mean. He tore up the stuff and said it was too 
 high priced, and everything of that kind. He hag- 
 gled over terms and started to walk out several times. 
 He made his bluff good with me and I thought he 
 was 'giltedge.' Finally, though, I sold him about a 
 thousand dollars. The old man had worked me all 
 right. Now he began to put the hooks into the house. 
 
 The same day that my order reached the house 
 came a letter from Benzine stating that he had looked 
 over his copy and he wished they would cut off half 
 of several items on the bill. Ah, he was shrewd, that 
 old guy. He was working for credit. He knew 
 that if he wrote to have part of his order cut off, the 
 credit man would think he was good. My house 
 couldn't ship the bill to him quickly enough, and they 
 wrote asking him to let the whole bill stand. He was 
 shrewd enough to tell them no, that he didn't wish to 
 get any more goods than he could pay for. That 
 sent his stock with the house a sailing. But the old 
 chap wasn't done with them yet. 
 
 "About six weeks before the time for discounting 
 he wrote in and said that as his trade had been very 
 good indeed they could ship additional dozens on all 
 
 303 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 the items that he had cut down to half-dozens, and 
 in this way he ran his bill to over $1,300." 
 
 "Well, you got a good one out of him that sea- 
 son, all right." 
 
 "Yes where the chicken got the ax. As soon 
 as Old Benzine had run in all the goods he could, 
 he did the shipping act. He left a lot of empty boxes 
 on his shelves but shipped nearly all of his stock to 
 some of his relatives, and then in came the coal-oil 
 can once more." 
 
 "Didn't you get any money out of him at all?" 
 one of the boys asked. 
 
 "Money?" said the shoeman. "Did you ever 
 hear of anybody getting money out of Old Benzine 
 unless they got it before the goods were shipped? If 
 ever there was a steal-omaniac, he was it, sure !" 
 
 With this, one of the boys tossed a few crumbs to 
 the gold fish. The turtles, thinking he had made a 
 threatening motion toward them, quietly ducked to 
 the bottom of the pool. The white-capped cook took 
 the turkey from before the fire. The water kept on 
 trickling over the ferns but its sound I soon forgot, 
 as another hat man took up the conversation. 
 
 "Most merchants," said he, "are easy to get along 
 with. They have so many troubles thrown upon 
 them that, as a rule, they make as few for us as they 
 can. Once in awhile we strike a merchant who gets 
 
 smart " 
 
 34 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "But he doesn't win anything by that," observed 
 the clothing man. 
 
 "No; you bet not! I used to sell a man down in 
 the valley who tried a trick on me. I had sold him 
 for two seasons and his account was satisfactory. An- 
 other man I knew started up in the town and he was 
 willing to buy my goods from me without the brands 
 in them. I remained loyal to my first customer in 
 not selling the new man my branded goods. In fact, 
 about the only difference between a great many lines 
 of goods is the name, as you know, and a different 
 name in a hat makes it a different hat. In all lines 
 of business, just as soon as one firm gets out a pop- 
 ular style, every other one in the country hops right 
 on to it, so it is all nonsense for a salesman not to 
 sell more than one man in a town when the names in 
 the goods are different, and the merchant, when such 
 is the case, has no kick coming on the man who sells 
 one of his competitors. 
 
 "Well, everything was all right until Fergus, cus- 
 tomer No. 2, sent in a mail order to the house. They, 
 by mistake (and an inexcusable one but what can 
 you expect of underpaid stock boys?) shipped out 
 to him some goods branded the same as those my 
 first customer, Stack, had in his house. Fergus wrote 
 in to me and told me about the mistake. He didn't 
 wish to carry the branded goods any more than the 
 other man wished for him to do so, and asked that 
 some labels be sent him to paste over his boxes. 
 
 305 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "I was in the house at the time and sent out sev- 
 eral labels to Fergus. At the same time I wrote to 
 Stack, very frankly telling him of the mistake and 
 saying that I regretted it and all I could say about 
 it was that it was a mistake and that it would not 
 occur again. Instead of taking this in good faith, 
 he immediately came out with a flaming ad: 
 
 EVERY MAN 
 
 IN THE COUNTY 
 
 Should appreciate the following: 
 
 Leopard Hats, $2.00. 
 Sold everywhere for $3.00 and $3.50. 
 
 "His goods had really cost him $24 a dozen and 
 he was merely aiming to cut under the other man's 
 throat, but he didn't know how he was sewing him- 
 self up. I wrote him: 
 
 ' 'My good friend: I have always believed that 
 you felt kindly toward me, and now I am doubly 
 certain of it. All that I have a right to expect of 
 my best friends is that they will advertise my goods 
 only so long as they keep on carrying them but you 
 have done me even a greater favor. You are adver- 
 tising them for the benefit of another customer, al- 
 though you have quit buying from me. Let me 
 thank you for this especial favor which you do me 
 and should I ever be able to serve you in any way, 
 personally, command me.' 
 
 "Well, how did he take that?" I asked. 
 306 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Oh, he didn't really see that he was advertising 
 his competitor, and he came back at me with this 
 letter : 
 
 " Tour valued favor of the 3Oth to hand. I as- 
 sure you that you owe me no debt of gratitude as I 
 am always glad to be of service to my friends, and 
 under no circumstances do I wish them to feel under 
 obligations to me. I would be only too glad to sell 
 the Leopards at one dollar each, provided they could 
 be bought at a price lower than that from you. But 
 at present any one can purchase them from me at $2 
 each, which 'should be appreciated by every man in 
 the county.' With kindest regards, very truly yours.' 
 
 "Well, how did you fix him?" said the shoe man. 
 "Fix him? How did you know I did?" 
 "Oh, that was too good a chance to overlook." 
 "You bet it was. When I went into the house a 
 few days afterwards, I picked out some nice clean 
 jobs in Leopards and I socked the knife into the price 
 so that Fergus could sell them at $1.50 apiece and 
 make a good profit. I then sicked him on to Stack 
 and there was merry war. In the beginning, as I 
 fancied he would, Stack got a man in another town 
 to send in to my house and pay regular price for my 
 goods and he continued to sell them at $2 each. Af- 
 ter he had loaded up on them pretty well, my other 
 man began to put them down to $1.75, $1.60, $1.50, 
 and forced my good friend to sell all he had on 
 hand at a loss. That deal cost him a little bunch." 
 
 307 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "There's altogether too much of this throat-cut- 
 ting business between merchants. The storekeeper 
 who can hold his own temper can generally hold his 
 own trade. 
 
 "Well, sir, do you know a fellow strikes a queer 
 combination on the road once in awhile. I think 
 about the oddest deal I ever got into in my life was 
 in Kearney, Nebraska," said an old-timer. 
 
 "When I was a young fellow I went on the road. 
 I had a clerical appearance but it was enforced more 
 or less by necessity. I hustled pretty hard catching 
 night trains and did any sort of a thing in order to 
 save time. I wore a black string necktie because it 
 saved me a whole lot of trouble. Once I sat down 
 and calculated how much my working time would be 
 lengthened by wearing string ties and gaiter shoes, 
 and I'll tell you it amounts to a whole lot, to say 
 nothing of the strain on one's temper and conscience 
 saved by not having to lace up shoes in a berth. 
 
 "Well, I struck Kearney late one Saturday night 
 looking more or less like a young preacher. Going 
 direct to my friend, Ward, he greeted me in a cordial, 
 drawling sort of fashion and with very little trouble 
 (although that was my first time in the town) I made 
 an engagement to show him some straw hats. 
 
 "It is rather the custom when one gets west of 
 Omaha to do business on Sunday, and so habituated 
 had I become to this practice that I was rather sur- 
 prised when my friend, Ward, said to me : 'Now, I'll 
 
 308 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 see you on Monday morning. Yes, on Monday morn- 
 ing. To-morrow, you know, is the Sabbath, and you 
 will find here at the hotel a nice, comfortable place 
 to stay. The cooking is excellent and the rooms are 
 nice and tidy, and I am sure that you will enjoy it. 
 If I can do anything further to add to your pleasure 
 I shall be only too glad to have the opportunity. Per- 
 haps you will come up to our Sunday School to-mor- 
 row morning. I am Superintendent and I shall see 
 that good care is taken of you. May we not expect 
 you up? 7 
 
 "Of course I wanted to get a stand in I confess 
 it and, furthermore, I had not forgotten my early 
 training, and you know that boys on the road are not 
 such a bad tribe as we are ofttimes mlade out to be. 
 So I promised Brother Ward that I would go up the 
 next morning. 
 
 "That part of it was all very good but how do 
 you suppose I felt when, after the lessons had been 
 read, I was called upon to address the Sabbath 
 school? I was up against it, but being in I had to 
 make good; and it often happens that, when a fellow 
 is in the midst of people who assume that he is wise, 
 wisdom comes to him. 
 
 "The night before I had come in on a freight. I 
 was mighty tired, fell asleep, and was carried past 
 the station about a mile and a half. All at once I 
 woke up in the caboose I had been stretched out on 
 the cushions and asked the conductor how far it 
 
 309 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 was to Kearney. 'Kearney?' said the conductor. 
 'Kearney? We are a mile and a half past.' At the 
 same time he sent out a brakeman who signaled down 
 the train. I was fully two miles from the depot 
 when I got off, lugging a heavy grip. I didn't know 
 it was so far. I had just one thing to do, that was 
 to hoof it down the track. Scared? Bet your life! 
 I thought every telegraph pole was a hobo laying for 
 me, clean down to the station. Luckily there was an 
 electric light tower in the center of the town and this 
 was a sort of guide-post for me and it helped to keep 
 up my courage. 
 
 "In the little talk that I had to make to the Sunday 
 School, having this experience of the night before so 
 strong in my mind, I told them of the wandering life 
 I had to live, of how on every hand, as thick as tele- 
 graph poles along the railway, stood dangers and 
 temptations ; but that I now looked back and that my 
 light tower had always been the little Sunday School 
 of my boyhood days. 
 
 "When you get right down to it, we all have a 
 little streak of sentiment in us, say what you will, 
 when in boyhood we have had the old-time religion 
 instilled into us. It sticks in spite of everything. It 
 doesn't at any time altogether evaporate. 
 
 "Well, sir, I thought that I was all solid with 
 Brother Ward. So the next morning I figured out 
 that, as I could not go west, where I wished to, I 
 could run up on a branch road and sandwich in an- 
 
 310 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 other town without losing any time. I went to him 
 early Monday morning and asked if it would be just 
 as convenient for him to see me at three o'clock that 
 afternoon. 
 
 " 'Oh, yes, indeed; that will suit me all the bet- 
 ter,' said Brother Ward. 'That will give me an op- 
 portunity to look over my stock of goods and see 
 just what I ought to order.' 
 
 "I made the town on the branch road and was 
 back at 2 130. When I went into my sample room, 
 a friend of mine, a competitor, had just packed up. 
 'Hello,' said I, 'how are things going, Billy?' 
 
 " 'Oh, fairly good,' said he. 'I have just got a 
 nice bill of straw goods out of Ward, here. Whom 
 do you sell?' 
 
 : ' 'Well, that's one on me !' I exclaimed. Then I 
 told my friend of my engagement with Ward, and 
 bought the cigars. 
 
 "But anyhow I opened up and went over to see 
 Brother Ward. I got right down to business and 
 said: 'Brother Ward, my samples are open and I 
 am at your service.' 'Well, Brother,' said he, 'I have 
 been looking over my stock' (he had about a dozen 
 and a half of fly-specked straw hats on his show case, 
 left over from the year before and not worth 4Oc), 
 'and I have about come to the conclusion that I'll 
 work off the old goods I have in preference to put- 
 ting in any new ones. You see if I buy the new ones 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 they will move first and the old goods will keep 
 getting older.' An old gag, you know! 
 
 "I saw that he was squirming, but I thought I 
 would pin him down hard and fast, so I asked him 
 the pat question: 'Then you have not bought any 
 straw hats for this season's business, Brother Ward?' 
 'Nope, nope,' said he telling what I knew to be a 
 point-blank lie. 
 
 " 'Well, Brother Ward,' said I, 'we are both con- 
 fronted by a Christian duty. A fellow competitor 
 and traveling man told me just a little while ago that 
 he had sold you an out-and-out order of straw hats. 
 Now I know that he is not telling the truth because 
 you, a most reputable citizen of this town and a most 
 worthy Superintendent of the Sunday School, have 
 told me out-and-out that you have not bought any 
 goods. Now, to-night, when you go home, do you 
 not think that it is your duty, as well as mine, to ask 
 the Lord to have mercy on and to forgive the erring 
 brother who has told such a falsehood? I am sure 
 that had he been trained to walk in the straight and 
 narrow path he would not have done so. Your 
 prayers, I am sure, will avail much.' 
 
 "When Brother Ward saw that I had him he 
 colored from the collar up, and when I left him and 
 said 'Peace be with thee!' his face was as red as the 
 setting sun." 
 
 "I have a customer," said the furnishing goods 
 man, "who beats the world on complaints. Every 
 
 312 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 time I go to see him he must always tell me his 
 troubles before I can get around to doing business 
 with him. If you put business at him point-blank, 
 it isn't very long before he twists the talk. So now 
 I usually let him tell his troubles before I say any- 
 thing to him about business. The last time I went in 
 to see him he is Sam Moritsky, in the clothing busi- 
 ness down in Los Angeles I said, 'Hello, Sam, how 
 are you ?' He answered : 
 
 " 'Der Talmud id say u Happy ees de man who ees 
 contentet," but it says in anodder place, "Few are 
 contentet." I'm a seek man. De trobble in dis 
 world ees, a man vants bread to leeve on ven he 
 hasn't got dot. And ven he gets der bread he es 
 sotisfite only a leetle vile. He soon vants butter on 
 id. Ven he gets der butter in a leetle vile he vants 
 meat, and den he vants vine and a goot cigar, and ven 
 he gets all dese t'ings, he gets seek. I am a seek man. 
 
 " 'Vonce I vanted a house on Cap'tol 'ell (Capitol 
 Hill) seex thousand tollars it costet. Eef I got id 
 feeften 'undret could haf borrowed dot much I 
 vould haf bought id, but I couldn't get dot feeften 
 'undret, and now I am glat. It vould have costet 
 seexty fife tollars a mont to leeve and den I haf to 
 geeve a party and a sopper and somet'ings and I make 
 a beeg show, a piano for my dotter, a fine dress for 
 my vife, t'eater and all dot, and first t'ing I know, 
 miihulla (I go broke) ! 
 
 " 'Veil, it's all ride eef I wasn't a seek man. Dey 
 
 313 
 
Talcs of the Road 
 
 say dese ees a goot country. I say no. My fadder's 
 family vants to come to dese country. I say no. In 
 Russia a man he half a goot time. Vriday night he 
 close de store at seex o'glock. He puts on his Sonday 
 clothes, beeg feast all day Sonday, dance, vine, lots 
 of goot t'ings. Veek days he geds down to beesness 
 at eight o'clock at ten o'glock he has coffee and den 
 in a leetle vile he goes home and eats lonch. Den he 
 takes a nap. De cheeldon, dey valk on der toes 
 t'rough de room. "Papa's asleep," dey say. Seex 
 o'glock he come home, beeg deener, he smokes hees 
 pipe, goes to bet, and de same t'ing over again. 
 
 " *I vork so hard in dese contry. I am a seek man. 
 Here I vork sefen days in de veek from sefen in de 
 morning to elefen at night, and sometimes twelf. 
 Only vonce last year I go to t'eater in de afternoon. 
 Ven I com home I catch 'ell from my vife. She say, 
 "You safe money, Sam, and ve get oud of dese bond- 
 age," and I say I must haf a leetle recreations. Sun- 
 day all day I keep open. Von Sunday night I say I 
 go home and take my vife and my cheeldon and I go 
 to t'eater. Ven I go to put de key into de door here 
 comes a customer een, and I sell 'eem tventy-fife 
 tollars feeften tollars brofit. I vould haf lostct 
 dot feeften tollars and vat I vould haf paid to go 
 to t'eater eef I had closed op. 
 
 ( 'Besides, here at dis place all de family helps. 
 Even my leetle goil, she goes oud to buy me a cigar 
 von day, and she ask de man dot sells de cigar to buy 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 something from papa. He vants some boys' shoes. I 
 haf none. She goes across de streedt and buys a pair 
 und sells dem for a tollar feefty-five cents brofit. I 
 gif my leetle goil a neeckle and I keep de feefty cents. 
 Dots de va^ it goes. I could not do dot eef I leefed 
 on Cap'tol 'ell. 
 
 4 'But den I am a seek man, but I am better off 
 as de man who leefs on Cap'tol 'ell. He is so beesy. 
 He eats his deener in de store. He has so many 
 trobbles because he vants to make hees fortune beeger. 
 Vat's de use? Here I am contentet. I go op stairs 
 and netting betters me vile I eat deener. Now, I say 
 vat de Talmud say ees right. Happy ees de man 
 who ees contentet. Eet vould be all righdt eef I vas 
 not a seek man.' 
 
 "When he got through with this speech I chewed 
 the rag with him about business for half an hour, as 
 I always had to do, finally telling him, as a last in- 
 ducement which I always threw out, that I had some 
 lots 'to close.' This was the only thing that would 
 make him forget that he was ( a seek man.' And when 
 I get right down to it, I believe I get more actual en- 
 joyment out of selling Sam than from any customer 
 I have." 
 
 "Speaking of your man Sam," said one of the hat 
 men, "reminds me of a customer I once had with the 
 same name. But my Sam was a bluffer. He was one 
 of the kind that was always making kicks that he 
 might get a few dollars rebate. I stood this sort of 
 
 315 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 work for a few seasons but I finally got tired of it 
 and, besides, I learned that the more I gave in to him 
 the more I had to yield. A few years ago when I 
 was traveling in Wisconsin, I went into his store and 
 before he let go of my hand he began: 'Ah, that 
 last bill was a holy terror. Why doesn't your house 
 send out good goods? Why, I'll have to sell all those 
 goods at a loss, and I need them, bad, too. They 
 aint no use of my tryin' to do no more business with 
 you. I like to give you the business, you know, but I 
 can't stand the treatment that the house is giving me. 
 They used to send out part of their goods all right, 
 but here lately it is getting so that every item is just 
 rotten.' 
 
 "I let Sam finish his kick and, as I started out the 
 door I merely said, 'All right, Sam, I'll see you after 
 awhile and fix this up all right. I want to go down 
 and work on my samples a little.' 
 
 "As I saw him pass on the other side of the street 
 going home to dinner, I slid up to his store and took 
 all his last shipment from his shelves and stacked 
 them in the middle of the floor. About the time I 
 had finished doing this he came back. 
 
 " Why, what are you doing?' said he. 
 
 " 'Well, I'll tell you, Sam. I don't want you to 
 have anything in the house that doesn't suit you, and 
 I would a great deal rather than you would fire all 
 this stuff back to the house. Look up and see the 
 amount of freight charges you paid on them. Mean- 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 time I'll run down to the hotel and get my book and 
 make you out a check for whatever it comes to. Come 
 on down to the corner with me anyway, Sam. Let's 
 have a cigar and take the world easy. I'm not going 
 out tonight.' 
 
 "Sam went down to the corner with me. In a few 
 minutes I returned to the store with my check book 
 in hand. As I went into his store Sam was putting 
 my goods back on the shelves. 
 
 " 'Got your samples open?' he said. 
 
 " 'Sure, Sam,' said I. 'Did you suppose I was 
 going to let you bluff me this way?' And that was 
 the last time he ever tried to work the rebate racket 
 
 on me." 
 
 "So long as a bluffer is warm about it," said the 
 shoe man, "it's all right; but I do hate to go up 
 against one of those coldbloods, even if he isn't a 
 bluffer." 
 
 "That depends," said the clothing man. "There's 
 one man I used to call on and every time I went to 
 see him I felt like feeling of his pulse to see if it 
 were beating. If I had taken hold of his wrist I 
 would not have been surprised to find that the artery 
 was filled with fine ice. Gee ! but how he froze me. 
 Somehow I could always get him to listen to me, but 
 I could never get him to buy. 
 
 "One day, to my surprise, the minute I struck him 
 he said, 'Samples open?' And when I told him 'Yes' 
 he had his man in my department turn over a cus- 
 
 317 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tomer that he was waiting on, to another one of the 
 boys, and took him right down to the sample room. I 
 never sold an easier bill in my life, so you see a cold 
 blood is all right if he freezes out the other fellow." 
 The goose that had twirled so long before the pine 
 log blaze was now put before us. The Spanish 
 Senor with his violin started the program, and our 
 tales for the evening were at an end. 
 
 3*8 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HIRING AND HANDLING SALESMEN. 
 
 TO hire and handle salesmen is the most impor- 
 tant work of the head of the house. When a 
 man goes out on the road to represent a firm, 
 his traveling expenses alone are from five to twenty- 
 five dollars a day, and sometimes even fifty. His sal- 
 ary is usually as much as his expenses, if not more. 
 If a salesman does not succeed, a great portion of his 
 salary and expenses is a dead loss, and, further, the 
 firm is making a still greater loss if he does not do 
 the business. In fact, if a poor man, succeeding a 
 good one, falls down, his house can very easily lose 
 many thousands of dollars by not holding the old 
 trade of the man whose place he took. If all the 
 wholesale houses in Chicago, say, which have a good 
 line of salesmen were, at the beginning of the year, to 
 lose all of those salesmen and replace them with dum- 
 mies, three- fourths of these firms would go broke in 
 from six months to three years. This is how impor- 
 tant the salesman is to his firm. 
 
 I put hiring and handling of salesmen before hav- 
 ing a strong line of goods, because if the proper sales- 
 men are hired and are handled right, they will soon 
 
 319 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 compel the house to put out the right line of goods. 
 Just as a retail merchant should consult with his 
 clerks about what he should buy, so, likewise, should 
 the head of the wholesale house find out from his men 
 on the road what they think will sell best. The sales- 
 man rubs up against the consumer and knows at first 
 hand what the customer actually wants. 
 
 When the head of a house has a man to hire, the 
 first man he looks for is one who has an established 
 trade in the territory to be covered a trade in his 
 line of business. A house I have in mind which, ten 
 years ago, was one of the top notchers in this country, 
 has gone almost to the foot of the class because the 
 "old man" who hired and handled the salesmen in 
 that house died and was succeeded by younger heads 
 not nearly so wise. 
 
 The still hunt was the old man's method. When 
 he needed a salesman for a territory he would go out 
 somewhere in that territory himself and feel about for 
 a man. He would usually make friends with the mer- 
 chants and find out from them the names of the best 
 men on the road and his chances for getting one of 
 them. The merchants, you know, can always spot 
 the bright salesmen. When they rub up against them 
 a few times they know the sort of mettle they are 
 made of. The merchant appreciates the bright sales- 
 man whether he does business with him or not and the 
 salesman who is a man will always find welcome 
 under the merchant's roof. Salesmen are the teachers 
 
 320 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 of the merchant, and the merchant knows this. 
 Whenever he is planning to change locations, build 
 a new store, move to some other town, put in a new 
 department, or make any business change whatsoever, 
 it is with traveling men that he consults. They can 
 tell him whether or not the new location will be a 
 good one and they can tell him if the new department 
 which he is figuring on starting is proving profitable 
 over the country in general. And, on the other hand, 
 when the traveling man is expecting to make a change 
 of houses, he often asks the advice of the merchant. 
 
 One of the biggest clothing salesmen in the United 
 States once told me how this very old man hired him. 
 Said Simon, "When I started out on the road my hair 
 was moss. I almost had to use a horse comb to currie 
 it down so I could wear my hat. Heavens, but I was 
 green ! I had been a stock boy for a kyke house and 
 they put me out in Colorado. Don't know whether 
 I have made much progress or not. My forefathers 
 carried stuff on their backs ; I carry it in trunks. Al- 
 though changing is often bad business, the best step 
 I ever made was to leave the little house and go with 
 a bigger one. I had been piking along and while I 
 was giving my little firm entire satisfaction, I was not 
 pleasing myself with what I was doing. I could go 
 out in the brush with my line, riding on a wagon be- 
 hind bronchos, where a first-class man wouldn't, and 
 dig up a little business with the yocles, but I couldn't 
 walk into a mocker (big merchant) and do business 
 
 321 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 with him. Yet, when I first started out I was fool 
 enough to try it and I made several friends among 
 the bigger merchants of Denver. But this did me no 
 harm. 
 
 "One day, when I went in to see one of these big 
 men in Denver, he said to me, 'Look here, Simon, 
 you're a mighty good fellow and I'd like to do busi- 
 ness with you, but you know I can't handle any goods 
 from the concern you represent. Why don't you make 
 a change ?' I said to him, * Well, I'm really thinking 
 about it, but I don't know just where I can get in.' 
 He said, 'I think I can give you a good tip. Old 
 man Strauss from Chicago is out here looking for 
 a man for this territory. He was in to see me only 
 yesterday and told me he was on the lookout for a 
 bright fellow. He's stopping up at the Windsor and 
 I'd advise you to go over and get next if you can.' 
 
 " 'Thank you very much,' said I; and I went over 
 to the Windsor I was putting up there and asked 
 the head clerk, who was a good friend of mine, where 
 Strauss was. 
 
 " 'Why, Simon,' said he, 'he's just gone down to 
 the depot to take the D. & R. G. for Colorado 
 Springs, but you will have no trouble finding him if 
 you want to see him. They're not running any sleep- 
 ers on the train. It's just a local between here and 
 Pueblo. He wears gold-rimmed spectacles, is bald, 
 and smokes all the time.' 
 
 "I called a cab, rushed down to the depot, checked 
 
 322 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 my trunks to Colorado Springs, and jumped on the 
 train just as she was pulling out. I spotted the old 
 man as I went into the coach. He was sitting in a 
 double seat with his feet up on the cushions. I got 
 a whiff of his 'Lottie Lee' ten feet away. Luckily 
 for me, all the seats in the car except the one the old 
 man had his feet on, were occupied, so I marched up 
 and said, 'Excuse me, sir, I dislike to make you un- 
 comfortable,' and sat down in front of him. 
 
 "The old man saw that I was one of the boys and, 
 as he wanted to pump me, he warmed up and offered 
 me one of his Lotties. I shall never forget that cigar. 
 Smoke 'em in Colorado, smell 'em in Europe! I 
 managed to drop it on the floor in a few minutes so 
 that I could switch onto one of mine. I pulled out a 
 pair of two-bit-straights and passed one over, lighting 
 the other for myself. 
 
 " 'Dot vas a goot seecar,' said the old man. 'You 
 are on der roat?' 
 
 " 'Yes,' said I. 
 
 " 'Vat's your bees'ness?' 
 
 " 'I'm selling clothing.' 
 
 " 'Vat? Veil, I am in dot bees'ness myself.' 
 
 " 'Who do you travel for?' said I, playing the inno- 
 cent. 
 
 " 'I'm not on de roat,' said the old man. 'I am 
 just out on a leetle trip for my healt I am a monu- 
 facturer. Who do you trafel for?' 
 
 U I tbld him and then tried tb swittfe the conversa- 
 
 3*3 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 tion to something else. I knew the old man wouldn't 
 let me do it. 
 
 " 'V'ere do you trafel?' said he. 
 
 " 'Oh, Colorado, Utah, and up into Montana and 
 Wyoming,' I answered. 
 
 "The old man took his feet off the cushions and his 
 arms from the back of his seat. I thought I had him 
 right then. 
 
 " 'Dot's a goot contry,' said he. 'How long haf 
 you been in deese beezness?' 'Five years,' said I. 
 'Always mit de same house?' 'Yes,' said I, 'I don't 
 believe in changing.' The old man had let his cigar 
 go out and he lit a match and let it burn his finger. I 
 was sure that he was after me then. 
 
 "I didn't tell him that I had been a stock boy for 
 nearly four years and on the road a little over one. 
 It is a good sign, you know, if a man has been with a 
 house a long time. 
 
 " 'How's beezness this season?' said he. 
 
 " 'Oh, it's holding up to the usual mark,' I said 
 like an old timer. 
 
 " 'Who do you sell in Denver?' said he. 
 
 "That was a knocker. 'Denver is a hard town to 
 do business in,' said I. 'In cities, you know, the big 
 people are hard to handle and the little ones you must 
 look out for. 5 That was another strong point; I 
 wanted him to see that I didn't care to do business 
 with shaky concerns. 
 
 3 2 4 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 : ' 'Veil,' said he after a while, 'you shouldt haf a 
 stronger line and den you could sell de beeg vons.' 
 
 'Yes, but it is a bad thing for a man to change,' 
 said I. I knew that I was already hired and I was 
 striking him for as big a guaranty as I could get, and 
 my game worked all right because he asked me to 
 take supper with him that night in the Springs and 
 before we left the table he hired me for the next year. 
 
 "I came very near not fulfilling my contract, 
 though, because after I had promised the old man I 
 would come to him he said, 'Shake and haf a seecar,' 
 and I had to smoke another Lottie Lee." 
 
 It is on the still hunt that the best men are trapped. 
 Experienced salesmen good ones always have po- 
 sitions and are not often looking for jobs. To get 
 them the wholesaler must go after them and the one 
 who does this gets the best men. Hundreds of appli- 
 cations come in yearly to every wholesale house in 
 America. These come so often that little attention 
 is paid to them. When a wise house wishes salesmen, 
 they either put out their scouts or go themselves di- 
 rectly after the men they want. And the shrewd head 
 of a house is not looking for cheap men; he knows 
 that a poor man is a great deal more expensive than 
 a good one. Successful wholesalers do not bat their 
 eyes at paying a first-class man a good price. 
 
 Recently I knew of one firm that had had a big- 
 salesman taken from them. What did they do to get 
 another to take his place? The manager did not put 
 
 3 2 5 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 out some cheap fellow, but he went to another man 
 who, although he was unfamiliar with the territory, 
 was a good shoe man, and guaranteed him that he 
 would make four thousand dollars a year net, and 
 gave him a good chance on a percentage basis of 
 making six thousand. The experienced man in a line, 
 although he has never traveled over the territory for 
 which the wholesaler wishes a man, stands next in 
 line for an open position. Houses know that a man 
 who has done well on one territory in a very little 
 while will establish a trade in another. One house 
 that I know of has, in recent years, climbed right to 
 the front because it would not let a thousand dollars 
 or more stand in the way of hiring a first-class man. 
 The head of this house went after a good salesman 
 when he wanted one. 
 
 This is the way in which the head of a marvelously 
 successful manufacturing firm hired many of their 
 salesmen : They have this man talk to four different 
 members of the firm single-handed; these men put all 
 sorts of blocks in the way of the man whom they 
 may possibly hire. They wish to test the fellow's 
 grit. One successful salesman told me that when they 
 hired him he talked to only one man, and only a few 
 minutes; this man took him to the head of the house 
 and said, 
 
 "Look here; there's no use of your putting this 
 man through the turkish bath any longer; he is a man 
 
 326 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 that I would buy goods from if I were a merchant." 
 "Well, I'll take him, then," said the president. 
 
 If I may offer a word of advice to him who hires 
 the salesmen I would say this : Try to be sure when 
 you hire a man to hire one that has been a success at 
 whatever he has done. While it is best to get a man 
 who is acquainted with your line and with the terri- 
 tory over which he is to travel, do not be afraid to 
 put on a man who knows nothing of your merchandise 
 and is a stranger to every one in the territory you wish 
 to cover. If he has already been a successful sales- 
 man he will quickly learn about the goods he is to sell, 
 and after one trip he will be acquainted with the 
 territory. 
 
 The main thing for a salesman to know when you 
 hire him is not how the trains run, not what your 
 stuff is he will soon learn this but how to approach 
 men! and gam their confidence! And it is needless 
 for me to say that the one way to do this is to BE 
 SQUARE! 
 
 A house does not wish a man like a young fellow 
 I once knew of. He had been clerking in a store and 
 had made application to a Louisville house for a posi- 
 tion on the road. When he talked the matter over 
 with the head of the house it was a small one and 
 always will be they would not offer him any salary 
 except on a commission basis, but they agreed to allow 
 him five dollars a day for traveling expenses. He 
 was to travel down in Kentucky. Five dollars a day 
 
 327 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 looked mighty big to the young man who had been 
 working for thirty dollars a month. He figured that 
 he could hire a team and travel with that, and by 
 stopping with his kin folks or farmers and feeding his 
 own horses, that he could save from his expense 
 money at least three dollars a day. 
 
 His territory was down in the Coon Range country 
 where he was kin to nearly everybody. He lasted 
 just one short trip. 
 
 A young fellow who once went to St. Louis is the 
 sort of a man that the head of a house is looking for. 
 When this young fellow went to call he put up a 
 strong talk, but the 'old man' said to him : 
 
 "Come in and see us again. We haven't anything 
 for you now." 
 
 That same afternoon this fellow walked straight 
 into the old man's office again, with a bundle under 
 him arm. 
 
 "Well, I am here," said he, "and I've brought my 
 old clothes along. While I wish to be a salesman for 
 you, put me to piling nail kegs or anything you please, 
 and don't pay me a cent until you see whether or not 
 I can work." 
 
 The eld man touched a button calling a department 
 manager and said to him : 
 
 "Here, put this young man to work. He says he 
 can pile nail kegs." 
 
 In a couple of days the department manager went 
 into the office again and said to the head of the house, 
 
 328 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "That boy is piling nail kegs so well that he can do 
 something else." 
 
 That same young fellow went from floor to floor. 
 In less than two years he was on the road and made 
 a brilliant record for the house. To-day he is general 
 salesman for the state of Texas for a very large 
 wholesale hardware house and is making several thou- 
 sand dollars each year. 
 
 If a wholesaler cannot find a man who is expe- 
 rienced in his line in the territory that he wishes to 
 cover, and cannot get a good experienced road man 
 at all, the next best ones he turns to are his own stock 
 boys. In fact, the stock is the training school for 
 men on the road. 
 
 A bright young man, wherever he may be, if he 
 wishes to get on the road, should form the acquaint- 
 ance of traveling men, because lightning may some- 
 time strike him and he will have a place before he 
 knows it. A gentleman who is now manager of a 
 large New York engraving house once told me how 
 he hired one of his best salesmen. 
 
 "When I was on the road my business used to carry 
 me into the colleges. Our house gets up class invita- 
 tions and things of that kind. Now I got this man in 
 this way," said he: "I especially disliked going to 
 the Phillips-Exeter Academy at Exeter, New Hamp- 
 shire, owing to the poor train service and worse hotel 
 accommodation. 
 
 "The graduating class at this academy had a nice 
 
 329 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 order to place, and I called with original designs and 
 prices. The committee refused to decide until they 
 had received designs and prices from our competitors, 
 so there was nothing else to do but bide-a-wee. When 
 I called I made it a point to make friends with the 
 chairman, who hailed from South Dakota and was all 
 to the good. He was bright and distinctly wise to his 
 job. By a little scouting I found out when the last 
 competing representative was to call and speak his 
 little piece. 
 
 "The next day I took a 'flyer,' that is, called with- 
 out making an appointment. I arranged to arrive at 
 my man's room in the afternoon when his recitations 
 were over. His greeting was characteristic of the 
 westerner, as if we had known one another all our 
 lives. He was a runner and did the one hundred 
 yards dash in ten seconds flat and was the school's 
 champion. I talked athletics to beat the band and 
 got him interested. He was unable to get the com- 
 mittee together until seven o'clock that evening, 
 which meant that I would have to stay in the town 
 over night, as the last train went to Boston around 
 6 130 o'clock. There was nothing else to do but stay, 
 as you naturally know what bad business it would be 
 to leave a committee about to decide. 
 
 "I saw a platinum photograph of myself sleeping 
 in that third-class hotel. I kept on talking athletics, 
 however, and the chairman was good enough to ask 
 me to dine with him. After dinner we played bil- 
 
 330 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 liards and he beat me. At 6 145 we adjourned to his 
 room. He and his committee excused themselves to 
 hold their meeting in a room on the floor below. I 
 was smoking one of the chairman's cigars, and was 
 congratulating myself that things looked encourag- 
 ing. The cigar was a good one, too. In half an hour 
 the committee returned. The fellows lined up on the 
 sofa, side by side, while the chairman straddled his 
 chair and addressed me as follows : 
 
 " 'Well, Mr. Rogers, we have discussed the matter 
 thoroughly and as impartially I think as any commit- 
 tee of fellows could do, who had the interest of their 
 class seriously at heart. In a way we regret that you 
 took the trouble to call, because, to speak frankly, we 
 would rather write what we have to say, than to be 
 placed in the somewhat embarrassing position of tell- 
 ing you orally.' 
 
 " My cigar, somehow or other, no longer tasted 
 good, and I was holding it in an apathetic sort of a 
 way, not caring whether it went out or not. The bum 
 hotel loomed up in front of me also. 
 
 Continuing, the chairman said: 
 
 " 'We have received something like six other esti- 
 mates from different firms, and I must say some of 
 their designs are "peaches." There are two firms 
 whose prices are lower than yours, too. We like your 
 designs very much, but I think if you place yourself 
 in our position you will see we have no other alterna- 
 tive but to place the order with another house. 
 
 331 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "He shifted his position uneasily and added with 
 that final air we know so well, 'I want to thank you 
 for your interest and trouble and we certainly appre- 
 ciate the opportunity of seeing what you had to offer.' 
 
 "This was a nice sugar coat on a bitter pill, but I 
 didn't want to take my medicine. I stood up, pre- 
 pared to make a strong and expiring effort and to 
 explain what an easy thing it was for a firm to quote 
 a low price, etc., when the chairman came over 
 quickly with extended hand and said, 'Now, we un- 
 derstand how you feel, old man, but there is no use 
 prolonging this matter, which I assure you we regret 
 more than we express. However,' turning to the other 
 fellows, 4 I think we are all agreed on one thing, and 
 that is we are willing to make an exception in this 
 case, and,' here the corners of his mouth twitched 
 and his eyes brightened up, 'we will give you the 
 order on one condition.' I quickly asked what the 
 condition was. 'And that is,' all the other fellows 
 were standing up, smiling, 'we will give you the order 
 if you'll take us to the show to-night !' 
 
 "It was well done and a clever piece of acting. 
 
 "The show, by the way, held in the town opera 
 house, was a thrilling melodrama, and positively, it 
 was so rotten it was good. The heroine was a girl 
 who sold peanuts in one of the Exeter stores, and the 
 villain was the village barber; I have forgotten who 
 the hero was, but he was a 'bird.' The best part of 
 the play was near the end. The villain was supposed 
 
 332 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to have murdered the hero by smashing him on the 
 head with an iron bar and then pushing him into the 
 river. At a critical stage, the hero walked serenely 
 on the scene and confronted the villain. The villain 
 assumed the good old stereotyped posture and shouted 
 out with a horrified expression, 'Stand back, stand 
 back, your hands is cold and slimy !' That busted up 
 the show, as the audience, composed largely of the 
 Academy boys, stood up as one and yelled. They 
 finally started a cheer, 'Stand back, stand back, your 
 hands is cold and slimy!' They repeated this cheer 
 vigorously three times, and then crowded out of the 
 house. That cheer can be heard at the Academy to- 
 day. 
 
 "My chairman friend insisted upon putting me up 
 for the night in a spare room in the dormitory; this 
 saved my life. 
 
 "The next morning I joined the boys in chapel, 
 and was very much surprised to find the entire student 
 body and faculty clapping their hands when I became 
 seated. This was certainly a new one on me. I turned 
 to my chairman friend; he was grinning broadly as 
 if he enjoyed the situation. What was I expected to 
 do, for Heaven's sake get up and make a speech? 
 My mind was relieved by the President addressing 
 the boys about alien topics. I learned afterwards that 
 it was an old custom with Phillips-Exeter to applaud 
 when a stranger entered the chapel. This is espe- 
 
 333 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 cially appropriate in the case of an old 'grad.' re- 
 turning, but certainly disturbing to an outsider. 
 
 "I did further business with my friend, also, when 
 he was at Harvard. He did such a smooth job on me 
 that when I became manager of my house I sent for 
 him when we had the first opening on the road. I 
 asked him how he would like to come with us. He 
 came. He has been with our company now for two 
 years and is getting on fine." 
 
 College boys as a rule are not looking for positions 
 on the road, but if more of them would do so there 
 would be more college graduates scoring a business 
 success and more traveling men with the right sort of 
 educational equipment. But they should begin young. 
 While traveling on the road they would find many 
 opportunities for self-advancement. The traveling 
 man who will try can make almost anything he wishes 
 of himself. 
 
 The head of the house must be on the lookout for 
 the floater. In every city there are many professional 
 job finders. About the only time they ever put up a 
 good, strong line of conversation is when they talk for 
 a job. After they get a good guaranteed salary they 
 go to sleep until their contract is at an end, and then 
 they hunt for another job. These are the chaps that 
 the "old man" must look out for with a sharp eye. 
 
 When it is known that a good position in a house 
 is open, scores of applications, by mail and in person, 
 come in fdr thfe pfiat from all kinids of mn. I knew 
 
 334 
 
Tales o the Road 
 
 of one instance where a most capable head of a house 
 thought well of one salesman who applied by letter. 
 Before fully making up his mind about him, however, 
 he sent a trusted man to look him up. He found that 
 the man who made the application, while a capable 
 salesman and a gentleman, was unfortunately a drunk- 
 ard and a gambler. 
 
 Of this kind of man there are not so many. A 
 man on the road who "lushes" and fingers chips does 
 not last long. To be sure, most men on the road are 
 cosmopolitan in their habits and they nearly all know, 
 perhaps better than any other class of men, when to 
 say, "no." 
 
 No less important than hiring salesmen is the 
 handling of them. The house spoils for itself many 
 a good man after it gets him. The easiest way is by 
 writing kicking letters. The man on the road is a 
 human being. Generally he has a home and a family 
 and friends. He is working for them, straining every 
 nerve that he may do something for the ones he cher- 
 ishes. He takes a deep and constant interest in his 
 business. He feels that he is a part of the firm he 
 works for and knows full well that their interest is 
 his interest and that he can only succeed for himself 
 by making a success for the firm. When, feeling all 
 of this within himself, he gets a kicking letter be- 
 cause he has been bold enough to break some little 
 business rule when he knows it should have been done, 
 he grows discouraged. 
 
 335 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 And, alas, for the comfort of the traveling man ! 
 there are too few houses that have due respect for his 
 feelings. The traveling man is on the spot. He 
 knows at first hand what should be done His orders 
 should be supreme. His work for a year should be 
 considered as a whole. If, at the end of his contract, 
 what he has done is not satisfactory, let him be told 
 so in a lump. Continual petty hammering at him 
 drives him to despair. 
 
 For example : I know of one firm in the wholesale 
 hat business, that raised hob in a letter with their 
 best man because he would, in selling dozen lots to 
 customers, specify sizes on the goods that his cus- 
 tomer wished, a most absurd thing for the house 
 to do. The merchant must, of course, keep his own 
 stock clean and not become over-stocked on certain 
 sizes. If he has been handling a certain "number" 
 and has sold out all of the small sizes, only the large 
 ones remaining, it would be foolish for him to buy 
 regular sizes and get in his lot the usual proportion 
 of large ones. All He needs and will need for several 
 months, perhaps, will be the smaller run of sizes. 
 Now, the salesman on the spot and the merchant 
 know just what should be ordered, and if the house 
 kicks on the salesman on this point, as did this house, 
 they act absurdly. 
 
 Not only do too many houses write kicking letters 
 to their men on the road, but fail to show the proper 
 appreciation for their salesmen's efforts to get good 
 
 336 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 results. When a salesman has done good work and 
 knows it, he loves to be told so, craves in the midst 
 of his hard work a little word of good cheer. And 
 the man handling salesmen who is wise enough to 
 write a few words of encouragement and appreciation 
 to his salesmen on the road, knows not how much 
 these few words help them to succeed in greater meas- 
 ure. It is a mistake for the "Old Man" to feel that 
 if he writes or says too many kind words to his sales- 
 men, he will puff them up. This is the reason many 
 refrain from giving words of encouragement. The 
 man on the road, least of all men, is liable to get the 
 swelled head. No one learns quicker than he that 
 one pebble does not make a whole beach. 
 
 Another way in which a house can handle its sales- 
 men badly is by not treating his trade right. Many 
 firms that carry good strong lines persistently dog the 
 customer after the goods have been shipped. When- 
 ever a house abuses its customers it also does a wrong 
 to its salesmen. I know of one firm, I will not say 
 just where, that has had several men quit and good 
 salesmen, too in the last two or three years, because 
 this firm did not treat its salesmen's customers right. 
 For this reason, and this reason only, the salesmen 
 went to other firms, that knew how to handle them 
 and their customers as men. With their new houses 
 they are succeeding. 
 
 Too many heads of wholesale firms get "stuck on 
 themselves" when they see orders rolling in to them. 
 
 337 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 They fail to realize the hard work their salesmen do 
 in getting these orders. I know of one firm that al- 
 most drove one of the best salesmen in the United 
 States away from it for the reasons that I have given. 
 They dogged him, they didn't write him a kind word, 
 they badgered his trade, they thought they had him, 
 hard and fast. Finally, however, he wrote to them 
 that, contract or no contract, he was positively going 
 to quit. Ah, and then you should have seen them bend 
 the knee ! This man traveled for a Saint Louis firm. 
 His home was in Chicago, and when he came in home 
 from his trip his house wrote him to come down imme- 
 diately. He did not reply, but his wife wrote them 
 and don't you worry about the wives of traveling men 
 not being up to snuff that he had gone to New York. 
 Next morning a member of the firm was in Chicago. 
 Hewent at once to call upon their salesman's wife. He 
 tried to jolly her along, but she was wise. He asked 
 for her husband's address and she told him that the 
 only address he had left was care of another whole- 
 sale firm in their line in New York, she supposed he 
 could reach her husband there. Then the Saint Louis 
 man was wild. He put the wires to working at once 
 and telegraphed: "By no means make any contract 
 anywhere until you see us. Won't you promise this ? 
 Letter coming care of Imperial." 
 
 Then he was sweet as pie to the salesman's wife, 
 took her and her daughter to the matinee, a nice 
 luncheon, and all that. In a few days the salesman 
 
 338 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 I speak of went down to Saint Louis. The members 
 of his firm took off their hats to him and raised his 
 salary a jump of $2,400 a year. 
 
 How much trouble they would have saved them- 
 selves, and how much better feeling there would have 
 been if they had only handled this man right in the 
 beginning! 
 
 There are some heads of firms, however, who do 
 know how to handle their salesmen. One of the very 
 best men in the United States is head of a wholesale 
 hardware firm. He has on the road more than a hun- 
 dred men and they all fairly worship him. I remem- 
 ber many years ago seeing a letter that he had written 
 to the boys on the road for him. He had been fishing 
 and made a good catch. He sent them all photo- 
 graphs of himself and his big fish and told the boys 
 that they mustn't work too hard,, that they were all 
 doing first rate, and that if they ever got where there 
 was a chance to skin him at fishing, to take a day off 
 and that he would give prizes to the men who would 
 out-catch him. This is just a sample of the way in 
 which he handles his men. Occasionally he writes 
 a general letter to his men, cheering them along. He 
 never loses a good man and has one of the best forces 
 of salesmen in America. They have made his success 
 and he knows it and appreciates it. 
 
 Another head of a firm who handles his salesmen 
 well is in the wholesale shoe business. Twice each 
 year he calls all of his salesmen together when he is 
 
 339 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 marking samples. He asks them their opinion about 
 this thing or that thing and listens to what his men 
 have to say. He has built up the largest shoe business 
 in the United States. After the marking of samples 
 is all over, he gives a banquet to his men and has each 
 one of them make a little speech. He himself ad- 
 dresses them, and when they leave the table there is 
 a cordial feeling between the head of the house and 
 his traveling men. 
 
 He also puts wonderful enthusiasm into his men. 
 Here are some of his mottoes: "Enthusiasm is our 
 great staple," "Get results," "No slow steppers 
 wanted around this house," "If this business is not 
 your business, send in your trunks," "All at it, always 
 at it, brings success." He has taught his salesmen 
 a college yell which runs like this : "Keep-the-qual-ity- 
 up." Only a few years ago the watchword of this 
 house was: "Watch us Five millions" (a year). 
 Now it is : "A million a month," and by their meth- 
 ods they will soon be there. 
 
 This same man has the keenest appreciation of the 
 value of a road experience. Some time ago he was 
 in need of an advertising manager. If he had fol- 
 lowed the usual practice he would have gone outside 
 the house and hired a professional "ad manager." 
 But he had a notion that the man who knew enough 
 about salesmanship and about his special goods to sell 
 them on the road could "make sentiment" for those 
 same goods by the use of printers' ink. Therefore 
 
 340 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 he put one of his crack salesmen into the position and 
 now pays him $6,000 a year. And the man has made 
 good in great shape. 
 
 Nor does he stop with promoting men from the 
 ranks of his organization. If a salesman in his house 
 makes a good showing, he fastens him to the firm 
 still tighter by selling to him shares of good dividend- 
 paying stock. 
 
 He knows one thing that too few men in business 
 do know : That a man can best help himself by help- 
 ing others ! 
 
 341 
 
w 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HEARTS BEHIND THE ORDER BOOK. 
 
 ITH all of his power of enduring disappoint- 
 ment and changing a shadow to a spot of 
 sunshine, there yet come days of loneliness 
 into the life of the commercial traveler days when 
 he cannot and will not break the spell. There is a 
 sweet enchantment, anyway, about melancholy; 'tis 
 then that the heart yearns for what it knows awaits 
 it. Perhaps the wayfarer has missed his mail; per- 
 haps the wife whom he has not seen for many weeks, 
 writes him now that she suffers because of their sep- 
 aration and how she longs for his return. 
 
 I sat one day in a big red rocking chair in the 
 Knutsford Hotel, in Salt Lake. I had been away 
 from home for nearly three months. It was drawing 
 near the end of the season. The bell boys sat with 
 folded hands upon their bench ; the telegraph instru- 
 ment had ceased clicking; the typewriter was still. 
 The only sound heard was the dripping of the water 
 at the drinking fount. The season's rush was over. 
 Nothing moved across the floor except the shadows 
 chasing away the sunshine which streamed at times 
 through the skylight. Half a dozen other wanderers 
 
 342 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 all disconsolate sat facing the big palm in the 
 center of the room. No one spoke a word. Perhaps 
 we were all turning the blue curls of smoke that 
 floated up from our cigars into visions of home. 
 
 The first to move was one who had sat for half an 
 hour in deep meditation. He went softly over to the 
 music box near the drinking fount and dropped a 
 nickel into the slot. Then he came back again to his 
 chair and fell into reverie. The tones of the old 
 music box were sweet, like the swelling of rich bells. 
 They pealed through the white corridor "Old Ken- 
 tucky Home." Every weary wanderer began to hum 
 the air. When the chorus came, one, in a low sweet 
 tenor, sang just audibly: 
 
 "Weep no more, my lady, 
 
 "Weep no more to-day; 
 
 "We will sing one song, for my old Kentucky home, 
 "For my old Kentucky home far away." 
 
 When the music ceased he of meditation went 
 again and dropped in another coin. Out of the magic 
 box came once more sweet strains this time those 
 of Cavalleria Rusticana, which play so longingly upon 
 the noblest passions of the soul. 
 
 The magic box played its entire repertoire, which 
 fitted so well the mood of the disconsolate listeners. 
 The first air was repeated, and the second. This was 
 enough too much. Quietly the party disbanded, 
 leaving behind only the man of meditation to listen 
 to the dripping of the fount. 
 
 343 
 
* 
 
 Tales of the Road 
 
 Not only are there moments of melancholy on the 
 road, but those of tragedy as well. The field of the 
 traveling man is wide and, while there bloom in it 
 fragrant blossoms and in it there wax luscious fruits, 
 the way is set with many thorns. 
 
 During the holidays of 1903 I was in a western 
 city. On one of these days, long to be remembered, 
 I took luncheon with a young man who had married 
 only a few months before. This trip marked his 
 first separation from his wife since their wedding. 
 Every day there came a letter from "Dolly" to "Ned" 
 some days three. The wife loves her drummer 
 husband; and the most loved and petted of all the 
 women in the world is the wife of the man on the 
 road. When they are apart they long to be together; 
 when they meet they tie again the broken threads of 
 their life-long honeymoon. 
 
 As we sat at the table over our coffee a bell boy 
 brought into my friend letter "97" for that trip. His 
 wife numbered her letters. Reading the letter my 
 friend said to me : "Jove, I wish I could be at home 
 in Chicago to-day, or else, like you, have Dolly along 
 with me. Just about now I would be going to the 
 matinee with her. She writes me she is going to get 
 tickets for to-day and take my sister along, as that 
 is the nearest thing to having me. Gee, how I'd love 
 to be with her !" 
 
 After luncheon we went to our sample rooms, 
 which adjoined. Late in the afternoon I heard the 
 
 344 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 newsboys calling out: "Extra! Extra! All about 
 the * * *" I know not what. My friend came 
 into my room. 
 
 "What is that they are calling out?" he said. 
 
 We listened. We heard the words : "All about the 
 Great Chicago Theater Fire." 
 
 Three steps at a time we bounded down stairs and 
 bought papers. When my friend saw the head-lines 
 he exclaimed: "Hundreds burned alive in the Iro- 
 quois Theater. Good God, man, Dolly went to that 
 theater to-day!" 
 
 "Pray God she didn't," said I. 
 
 We rushed to the telegraph office and my friend 
 wired to his father: "Is Dolly lost? Wire me all 
 particulars and tell me the truth." 
 
 We went to the newspaper office to see the lists of 
 names as they came in over the wire, scanning each 
 ne\v list with horrified anxiety. On one sheet we saw 
 his own family name. The given name was near to, 
 but not exactly, that of his wife. 
 
 May a man pray for the death of his near beloved 
 kin for the death of one he loves much that she 
 may be spared whom he loves more ? Not that, but 
 he will pray that both be spared. 
 
 Back to the hotel we ran. No telegram. Back 
 to the newspaper office and back to the hotel again. 
 
 A messenger boy put his hand on the hotel door. 
 Three leaps, and my friend snatched the message 
 from the boy. He started to open it. He faltered. 
 
 345 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 He pressed the little yellow envelope to his heart, 
 then handed it to me. 
 
 "You open it and pray for me," he said. 
 
 The message read: "All our immediate family es- 
 caped the horrible disaster. Dolly is alive and thank- 
 ful. She tried but could not get tickets. Thank 
 God." 
 
 All do not escape the calamity of death, however, 
 as did my friend Ned. The business of the man on 
 the road is such that he is ofttimes cut off from his 
 mail and even telegrams for several days at a time. 
 Again, many must be several days away from their 
 homes utterly unable to get back. When death comes 
 then it strikes the hardest blow. 
 
 A friend of mine once told me this story: 
 
 "I was once opened up in an adjoining room to a 
 clothing man's. When he left home his mother was 
 very low and not expected to live for a great while ; 
 but on his trip go he must. He had a large family, 
 and many personal debts. He could not stay at home 
 because no one else could fill his place on the road. 
 The position of a traveling man, I believe, is seldom 
 fully appreciated. It is with the greatest care that, 
 as you know, a wholesale house selects its salesmen 
 for the road. When a good man gets into a position 
 it is very hard in fact impossible for him to drop 
 out and let some one else take his place for one trip 
 even. Of course you know there isn't any place that 
 some other man cannot fill, but the other man is 
 
 346 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 usually so situated that either he will not or does not 
 care to make a change. 
 
 u My clothing friend was at Seattle on his trip. 
 His home, where his mother lay sick, was in Saint 
 Louis nearly four days away. The last letter he 
 had received from home told him that his mother 
 was sinking. The same day on which he received 
 this letter a customer came into his room about ten 
 o'clock and he was a tough customer, too. He 
 found fault with everything and tore up the samples. 
 He was a hard man to deal with. You know how 
 it is when you strike one of these suspicious fellows. 
 He has no confidence in anybody and makes the life 
 of us poor wanderers anything but a joyous one. 
 
 "Under the circumstances, of which he said noth- 
 ing, my clothing friend was not in the best mood, 
 He could not help thinking of home and feeling that 
 he should be there; yet, at the same time, he had a 
 duty to do. He simply must continue the trip. He 
 had just taken on his position with a new firm and 
 needed to show, on this trip, the sort of stuff in him. 
 He had been doing first rate; still, he must keep it up. 
 
 "I happened to drop in, as I was not busy for a 
 few minutes, while he was showing goods. I never 
 like to go into a man's sample room while he is wait- 
 ing on any one. Often a new man on the road gets 
 in the way of doing this and doesn't know any better. 
 Selling a bill of goods, even to an old customer, takes 
 a whole lot of energy. No man likes to be inter- 
 
 347 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 rupted while he is at it. When it comes to persuading 
 a new man to buy of you, you have, frequently, a 
 hard task. There are many reasons why a customer 
 should not leave his old house. Maybe he is still 
 owing money to the firm he has been dealing with 
 and needs credit. Maybe the salesman for that firm 
 is a personal friend. These are two things hard to 
 overcome financial obligations and friendship. 
 
 "At any rate, my clothing friend was having much 
 difficulty. He was making the best argument he 
 could, telling the customer it mattered not what firm 
 he dealt with, that firm was going to collect a hun- 
 dred cents on the dollar when his bill was due; and 
 that any firm he dealt with would be under obliga- 
 tions to him for the business he had given to it in- 
 stead of his being under obligations to the firm. He 
 was also arguing against personal friendship and say- 
 ing he would very soon find out whether the man he 
 was dealing with was his friend or not if he quit 
 buying goods from him. He was getting down to the 
 hard pan argument that the merchant, under all cir- 
 cumstances, should do his business where he thought 
 he could do it to best advantage to himself. 
 
 u The merchant would not start to picking out a 
 line himself, so my friend laid on a table a line of 
 goods and was, as a final struggle, trying to persuade 
 the merchant to buy that selection, a good thing to 
 do. It is often as easy to sell a merchant a whole 
 line of goods as one item. But the merchant said no. 
 
 348 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 "Just as I started out of the room, in came a bell 
 boy with a telegram. My clothing friend, as he read 
 the message, looked as if he were hitched to an elec- 
 tric wire. He stood shocked with the telegram in 
 his hand not saying a word. Then he turned to 
 me, handed me the message and, without speaking, 
 went over, laid down on the bed, and buried his face 
 in a pillow. Poor fellow. I never felt so sorry for 
 anybody in my life! The message told that his 
 mother was dead. 
 
 "I asked the stubborn customer to come into the 
 next room, where I showed him the message. 
 
 " 'After all, a "touch of pity makes the whole 
 world akin",' the merchant said to me: 
 
 " 'Just tell your friend, when he is in shape again 
 to talk business, that he may send me the line he 
 picked out and that I really like it first rate." 
 
 Sometimes the tragedies of the road show a 
 brighter side. Once, an old time Knight of the Grip, 
 said to me, as we rode together: 
 
 "Do you know, a touching, yet a happy thing, hap- 
 pened this morning down in Missoula? 
 
 "I was standing in my customer's store taking sizes 
 on his stock. I heard the notes of a concertina and 
 soon, going to the front door, I saw a young girl 
 singing in the street. In the street a good looking 
 woman was pulling the bellows of the instrument. 
 Beside her stood two girls one of ten, another of 
 
 349 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 about fourteen. They took turns at singing some- 
 times in the same song. 
 
 "All three wore neat black clothes not a spark 
 of color about them except the sparkling keys of the 
 concertina. They were not common looking, poorly 
 clad, dirty street musicians. They were refined, even 
 beautiful. The little group looked strangely out of 
 place. I said to myself: 'How have these people 
 come to this?' 
 
 "How those two girls could sing! Their voices 
 were sweet and full. I quit my business, and a little 
 bunch of us two more of the boys on the road hav- 
 ing joined me stood on the sidewalk. 
 
 "The little girl sang this song," continued my com- 
 panion, reading from a little printed slip : 
 
 "Dark and drear the world has grown as I wan-der 
 
 all a-lone, 
 
 And I hear the breezes sob-bing thro' the pines. 
 I can scarce hold back my tears, when the southern 
 
 moon ap-pears, 
 
 For 'tis our humble cottage where it shines; 
 Once again we seem to sit, when the eve-ning lamps 
 
 are lit, 
 
 With our faces turned to-ward the golden west, 
 When I prayed that you and I ne'er would have to 
 
 say 'Good-bye,' 
 But that still to-gether we'd be laid to rest. 
 
 "As she sang, a lump kind of crawled up in my 
 throat. None of us spoke. 
 
 "She finished this verse and went into the crowd 
 
 350 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 to sell printed copies of their songs, leaving her older 
 sister to take up the chorus. And I'll tell you, it 
 made me feel that my lot was not hard when I saw 
 one of those sweet, modest little girls passing around 
 a cup, her mother playing in the dusty street, and her 
 sister singing, to just any one that would listen. 
 
 "The chorus was too much for me. I bought the 
 songs. Here it is : 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 "Dear old girl, the rob-in sings a-bove you, 
 Dear old girl, it speaks of how I love you, 
 The blind-ing tears are fall-ing, 
 
 As I think of my lost pearl, 
 And my broken heart is call-ing, 
 
 Calling you, dear old girl. 
 
 "Just as the older sister finished this chorus and 
 started to roll down the street a little brother, who 
 until now had remained in his baby carriage unno- 
 ticed, the younger girl came where we were. I had 
 to throw in a dollar. We all chipped in something. 
 One of the boys put his fingers deep into the cup and 
 let drop a coin. Tears were in his eyes. He went to 
 the hotel without saying a word. 
 
 "The little girl went away, but soon she came back 
 and said: 'One of you gentlemen has made a mis- 
 take. You aimed, mama says, to give me a nickel, 
 but here is a five-dollar gold piece.' 
 
 " 'It must be the gentleman who has gone into the 
 hotel,' said I. 
 
Tales of the Road 
 
 " Then I'll go find him,' said the little girl. 
 4 Where is it?' 
 
 "Well, sir, what do you suppose happened? The 
 little girl told the man who'd dropped in the five, 
 how her father, who had been well to do, was killed 
 in a mine accident in Colorado and that although he 
 was considerable to the good, creditors just wiped 
 up all he had left his family. The mother the fam- 
 ily was Italian had taught her children music and 
 they boldly struck out to make their living in the 
 streets. It was the best they could do. 
 
 "The man who had put in the five was a jewelry 
 salesman from New York. While out on a trip he 
 had lost his wife and three children in the Slocum 
 disaster. He just sent the whole family, the mother, 
 the two sisters, and the baby to New York and told 
 them to go right into his home and live there that 
 he would see them through. 
 
 "I was down at the depot when the family went 
 aboard, and it was beautiful to see the mother take 
 that man's hand in both of hers and the young girls 
 hug him and kiss him like he was their father." 
 
 352 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE OK THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 OVERDUE. 
 
YB 05835 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY