Part 18 (1/2)

Then I had lost my temper.

”You're a four-flus.h.i.+ng cur, and just as sure as my name is Black, I'll give you a run for your money! If you think you can scare me, you're mistaken! And if you want a fight, by George, I'll give it to you!”

Stigler leaned against the corner of his window and said:

”My, somebody's been feedin' yer meat, ain't they?” and then he turned and walked into his store.

The first thing I did when I got to the store was to tell La.r.s.en I wanted to put a dollar in the ”swear box,” and then I told him the incident. He shook his head thoughtfully, and said:

”Too bad, Boss, too bad.”

I wished that I had kept control over my tongue! I felt that Stigler had had the best of the sc.r.a.p that morning. I felt that he had put it all over me. I had felt like a scolded boy, and I had probably looked like one as I marched away from his store with my ears and face burning, a-tremble in my limbs.

La.r.s.en had quickly written a sign which said, ”30 per cent. reduction to-day on all goods offered in our automatic sale!” Then he asked me if I could manage to spare him for a couple of hours.

”What for?” I asked.

”I tell you, Boss,” he said. ”We got a lot of good carpenter tools in the sale. I want to go to every carpenter in town and tell 'em what we got. Stigler tries to get sales in carpenters' tools. He got a mad at you because you put in more stock. I'll tell 'em they can buy carpenters' tools for 30 per cent. less regular price. That'll hit Stigler where he lives!”

I caught a bit of La.r.s.en's enthusiasm. Isn't it remarkable how a man over fifty like La.r.s.en could have the energy and enthusiasm he showed? I really thought he was getting younger every day, while I was getting older!

When he came back to the store, about 11:30 he was smiling.

”How did you make out?” I asked.

”Fine! I got over $60.00 of orders. I promise to put the tools one side.

The folks'll call later in day. Some that didn't order said they goin'

to come in.”

”That's great!” I exclaimed, and my spirits immediately rose.

”Any business this morning?” La.r.s.en asked.

”Yes,” I replied, ”four lines sold out.”

”Kitchen goods?”

”Yes, all of them. You know that cheap line of enameled frying pans?”

”Yep.”

”Well, a woman came in and bought twelve of them!”

”Twelve?”

”Yep. And then another one came in and bought six! They've been selling in bunches,” and I chuckled. ”What are you looking so glum at?” I asked him suddenly.

”We got a hole in our plan,” he returned. ”We oughta say no person buy more than one of anything. I bet them frying pans in Stigler's now. They was good at the price. He couldn't buy 'em wholesale to-day for it. I bet he sell 'em off to-day, and we got none. He got one of our big cards and plays it himself.”

”I've got the list of goods sold out ready to put in the window,” I said, and pa.s.sed him over a card on which I had listed the goods which were all gone.