Part 24 (1/2)

But I started in to tell what it was that Stigler did. That afternoon, to my surprise, I saw him in Dorman's empty store with a carpenter, measuring the floor s.p.a.ce. When he came out I was on the doorstep bidding good-by to Betty, who had dropped into the store to remind me that I was to take home some cheap kitchen knives.

”h.e.l.lo, Black,” called Stigler, as he came out of the store. At the same time his lips gave that contemptuous curl which always got under my epidermis.

”h.e.l.lo, yourself, Stigler,” I replied.

”Well,” he said, stopping for a minute in front of me, ”you and me's going to be pretty close neighbors, Black, ain't we?”

”What do you mean?” I asked.

”I've just rented old Dorman's store. You know, I think there's room in this town for a good five-and-ten-cent store, specializing on kitchen goods. This looked like a good location to me, so I'm just going to try it out. Open up the first of the month.”

”Fine,” I said. ”Good luck to you!” putting as much heartiness into my tone as I could. And then I went into the store before my rage, and let me say, anxiety, should show themselves to Stigler.

”Gee whitakins!” I thought. ”A five-and-ten-cent store, next door to me, specializing in kitchen goods, and run by Stigler!”

I knew, without his saying a word about it, that he was opening that store with the money he had just inherited from a brother out West, and that he was doing it just to try ”to run me off my feet,” as he had expressed it before.

I think I did the best thing I could possibly have done under the circ.u.mstances, for I went right over to Barlow's. Barlow had told me repeatedly that, any time I needed help, I should go right to him. I certainly felt that I needed the advice of an old war-horse like he was.

Somehow the fact that he was a bit old-fas.h.i.+oned and staid in his ways made him appear a rock of comfort to me.

I told him the whole story, and he certainly looked grave.

”What can I do?” I asked anxiously. ”I haven't the money to fight him.

He is cutting into my profits very much as it is. Would you advise me to make a big display of five-and-ten-cent goods before he has a chance to open the store?”

”When is he going to get started?”

”Well, he said he was going to open by the first of the month.”

I think for five minutes Barlow said nothing, but just see-sawed backward and forward on his swivel chair.

”What ratio would cheap kitchen goods bear to your total sales?” he finally asked.

”I don't know what you mean.”

”I mean, suppose you sell a hundred dollars' worth of goods, how many dollars' worth of that would be in five- ten- and fifteen-cent articles?”

”I can't tell you that.”

”Surely you have some idea as to whether the cheap goods are the ones that sell best in your store?”

”Well, I'm sure I don't know.”

Some of those old-timers' were pretty shrewd fellows after all. I had never thought of a.n.a.lyzing my sales in that way.

”Tell you what to do,” he said. ”Find out what proportion you are buying of five- ten- and fifteen-cent kitchen goods, and how much of the better-cla.s.s goods.”

”What then?” I inquired, still in the dark.