THE RIVAL BOOK AGENT
AS ill luck would have it the firm Grant Deems represented published a
health book, a cattle and poultry book and a set of famous novels,
similar, in many respects, to those issued by Mr. Vincent. As said
before, the works were inferior in every way to those put out by the New
York publisher, yet a hasty glance would give one the opinion that one
line of works was about as good as the other.
On Tuesday Frank did not see or hear much of the rival book agent, but
on Wednesday morning he heard that Grant Deems had visited several
houses and said the Vincent publications were far inferior to those he
was selling. Many believed him and as a consequence our hero took but
few orders.
“Mr. Deems, I hear you have been talking strongly against my books,”
said Frank, when he met the rival agent that evening.
“Business is business,” was the cold reply, and Grant Deems puffed away
calmly at a cigar he was smoking.
“But you have been telling people things about my books that are not
true.”
“I don’t see it.”
“You know that our books are better than yours in every way.”
“Rot! It is just the other way around, Hardy. And I am getting the
orders, too,” and Grant Deems chuckled.
“It is not a fair way of doing business, Mr. Deems, and if you keep on
you’ll be sorry for it.”
“Sorry? How?”
“Never mind how. I will not allow anybody to run down the books I am
selling.”
“Oh, go on and jump in the river!” growled Grant Deems, and walked away.
His manner angered Frank exceedingly, and when, a little later, he
visited a store and learned that the rival agent had stated that the
Vincent books were “old plugs and no good at all,” his temper arose to a
point where he felt like pitching into Grant Deems in earnest.
“Is there a printer in town?” he asked of the storekeeper.
“Oh, yes, Barry Leeds does all sorts of small jobs,” returned the
storekeeper.
“Where is his office?”
“Back of his house, the fourth up this street.”
“Thank you.”
Our hero lost no time in seeking out the printer, who was a young
fellow, and willing to jump at any job which presented itself.
“I want two hundred small circulars printed,” said Frank. “Can you get
them out at once?”
“Yes.”
“How much will they be?”
“That depends on what you want printed on them.”
“I want this,” returned our hero, and taking a sheet of paper, he wrote
the following:
A CARD TO THE PUBLIC.
It has come to my knowledge that a certain rival book agent is
visiting the people of this vicinity and representing that the books
I sell are not the best of their class on the market. Kindly hold
your orders until you see my books and I will prove to you that the
firm I represent, the Philip Vincent Company, publish the best books
of their class in the world.
FRANK HARDY.
“I’ll get you out two hundred of those for a dollar and a half, or three
hundred for two dollars,” said Barry Leeds.
“Very well, I’ll take the three hundred,” answered our hero. “Perhaps
I’ll be called on to use some of them somewhere else.”
“I reckon I saw that rival book agent,” went on the printer. “He was
here with his books, but I didn’t buy from him. Do you want these
distributed around town?”
“I do, and to the houses for a mile around.”
“My little brother will be glad to get the job.”
“When can you put them out?”
“By eight o’clock to-morrow morning.”
“How much for the distribution?”
“Oh, he’ll do it for fifty cents.”
“Very well, go ahead, and here is the money. Mind and put them into
every house and every store.”
“I’ll do the work properly, Mr. Hardy. When you go around you just look
for the circulars. I’d like to see you get the best of that other chap.
I didn’t like the way he talked at all.”
Frank took care to avoid Grant Deems on the following morning. This was
easy, since the rival book agent did not come down to breakfast until
nearly nine o’clock. By that hour our hero was already out looking for
orders.
It was not long before Frank came across a person who had purchased a
health, and a cattle and poultry book from Grant Deems.
“I wish I had seen your books first,” said this person. “They are
assuredly superior.”
“Will you rent me these books for two or three days?” asked our hero.
“What do you want to do with them?”
“I want to show folks the difference between the two lines of books.”
“In that case I’ll let you take the books around for nothing.”
“Thank you very much,” said Frank, and placed the rival’s volumes in a
paper.
This was a wise move on our hero’s part, for before long he ran across
some folks who wanted to know just what the difference between the two
sets of books was.
“I will show you,” said he, and brought out the other volumes. “In the
first place, if you will look at the copyright notices, you will see
that these books are much older than ours. In the second place, you will
see that the printing is poorer and that the paper is of inferior
quality. In the third place, our books contain many more illustrations,
and in the fourth place, our covers are much more durable.”
“What you say is true,” said the man, who was listening, and he at once
gave Frank an order for the health book, and sent him to a brother who
wanted a book about cattle and poultry.
All day long our hero worked to get orders, and in nearly every case he
had to show up the rival’s books alongside of his own. He was highly
successful, and by night had orders for nine volumes, and one party had
asked him to call again about the famous set of novels.
“The circulars have done a whole lot of good,” he thought, as he walked
toward his boarding house. “This is the best day’s business in some
time. I wonder how Grant Deems likes the move I made?”
He was still some distance from Miss Littell’s house when he came face
to face with Grant Deems, who was standing behind a big tree.
“See here, what are you up to?” demanded the rival book agent, sourly.
“What do you mean, Deems?” asked Frank, quietly.
“You know well enough what I mean. A nice circular you got up about my
books!”
“Do you think that circular applies to your books?”
“Of course you meant me! I’ve a good mind to thrash you as you deserve.”
“You had better not try it.”
“Why?”
“You might get the worst of it.”
“Stuff and nonsense!”
“You started this thing, Deems.”
“I did not.”
“You did. You told a number of folks here that my books were no good.”
“Well, I told the truth.”
“Folks don’t think so.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Simply this: that I have shown them your books as well as my own, and I
have done a very large day’s business selling my books.”
“You’ve been showing my books?”
“Yes. Here are two of them in this package—two that you delivered
yesterday.”
“It’s a fine way to treat a fellow agent.”
“If you had left me alone, I should have let you alone.”
“I’ve a good mind to punch your head!”
“As I said before, you had better not try it.”
“You talk mighty big for a boy!” growled Grant Deems, but he made no
move to attack Frank.
“I can take care of myself.”
“How many books have you sold to-day?”
“That is my business.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t take an order.”
“I’m not betting. Just the same I am well satisfied with what I have
sold.”
Grant Deems continued to grumble and to threaten our hero, and at last
moved away in a very bad humor. Frank entered the boarding house and got
supper. The rival agent did not appear.
The next day Frank went out bright and early. He was “on his mettle,” as
the saying is, and bound to take all the orders possible. He worked with
vigor, and by three o’clock in the afternoon had six orders to his
credit. Then he called on the party who had wanted to consider the set
of famous novels.
“I’ll take the set of works,” said the person. “I wanted to look at the
set that rival agent has. But I like yours much better.”
“When was he here, if I may ask?” questioned our hero.
“This morning. He was very anxious to take the order and wanted to throw
off ten per cent. But I told him I was going to take your books.”
“And what did he say to that?”
“He went off as mad as a hornet.”
Frank took the order and then went back to his boarding house, to write
letters to New York, and to his folks at home.
Hardly had he seated himself in his room when the door burst open and
Grant Deems rushed in.
“See here, I’m going to settle matters with you!” cried the rival book
agent. And banging the door shut, he placed his back against it.
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