Part 11 (1/2)

”There's a lot of work to do here,” he said, going from box to box, flas.h.i.+ng the light across the contents. ”There must be a million needles in that packing case. Poor Morton's apple corer--there's several thousands of those. And here's a great jumble of lawn mower repair material.”

Frank stood mapping out how he would handle the ma.s.s of stuff. About to leave the room, he set down the lamp and curiously inspected the zinc box that had apparently been the burned-out hardware man's safe.

It was filled with papers of various kinds: receipted bills, statements of accounts and letters. Many of these latter were from mail customers who had bought the apple corer and were dissatisfied with its operation.

Many of the papers were partly burned away. All were grimed with smoke.

Finally from the very bottom of the box Frank fished up a square package. Opening this, he found it to be some part of a mail order office equipment.

Frank's eye sparkled. There were several sheets of cardboard. On each of them a colored map of a State of the Union was printed. Each town had a hole near it. This was to hold minute wooden pegs of different hues, each color designating ”written to,” or ”first customer,” or ”agent,”

and the like.

At a glance Frank took in the value and utility of this outfit. As he drew some typewritten sheets from a big manilla envelope, he grew positively excited at the grand discovery he had made.

”Fifty thousand names!” exclaimed Frank--”possible mail order customers all over the country! Oh, if this outfit were only mine! Can I get it, or its duplicate? Why,” he said, in a fervent, deep-drawn breath, ”circ.u.mstances seem absolutely pus.h.i.+ng me into the mail order business!”

CHAPTER IX

SENSE AND SYSTEM

Frank was up and stirring before six o'clock the next morning. He felt like a person beginning life brand-new again.

When his mother appeared half-an-hour later, she found everything tidied up, including Frank himself, who hurried through a good, hearty breakfast with an important business engagement in view.

”You will excuse me for calling at your home instead of the office,”

said Frank to Mr. Buckner, a little later.

”That's all right, Frank,” declared the insurance man, shaking hands heartily with his early caller. ”Time is money, and of course you want to utilize it to the best advantage. Well, what's the news?”

Frank recited the progress of the day previous. When he came to tell of the sale of the old junk at Riverton, his host laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.

”You'll do, Frank,” he observed with enthusiasm--”decidedly, you'll do!

You got the moving done at just half what I expected to pay, and collected twenty dollars and a half we never knew a word about.”

”Then you want me to go on getting the burned stuff in order, do you?”

inquired Frank.

”Certainly--that was all understood, wasn't it? I'll try and drop around to-day or to-morrow and take a look at the plunder, just out of curiosity. As to getting it in shape for my client's inspection, I leave that in your able charge exclusively.”

”Thank you,” said Frank.

Nelson Cady was piping a cheery whistle in front of the store when Frank got home.

”Got no letter yet,” he announced in his old important way, ”so I reckon I can give you a lift, Frank.”

”Good for you,” commended Frank. ”You know how to work all right when you want to, Nelson.”