JOCK MCTAVISH DISTURBS THE PEACE
How work does pile up on one when he is away from business for a day or
two! I was away less than two days; but it took me practically a whole
week to get caught up. I suppose that it was because Charlie and I had
gone away together.
I had a fine time in Hartford. Fred Barlow was full of ideas. He told me
something about a plan that he was then working out for chain garages in
connection with hardware stores.
"You're crazy," I told him. "No one has ever done anything like that
before."
"Good boy!" he said. "The very fact that no one has ever done it before
shows that it has a chance of success. I may have something to say to
you about that later on," he said, mysteriously.
We had a very interesting meeting the following Monday. Our Monday
evening meetings were certainly valuable, and I wouldn't have
discontinued them for anything. It kept the fellows thinking and working
in the interests of the business.
The matter for discussion was, "What can we do to boost sales this
spring?"
A few days before I had asked old Barlow why he always got the trade for
farming implements. His reply had interested me very much. He said:
"I know exactly the uses of all farming implements I sell. I know what
kind of soil we have for miles around Farmdale. I know what kind of
crops rotate best, and what fertilizer is best for each crop. The result
is that I can advise the farmer what to buy, why he should buy it, and
how to get the best results from using it."
"You must be a regular farmer yourself," I had exclaimed with surprise.
"When did you learn farming?"
Barlow had smiled as he said, "I realized early in the game that if I
meant to win the farmers' trade, I must win their confidence by knowing
their needs, and talking in their own terms; so I bought that little
farm at Mortonville, eight miles from here, just to experiment with and
to study farming."
It just showed how easily a boss can be misunderstood. When I worked for
old Barlow we fellows had always thought he was having a good time every
spring, summer and fall at his farm, and had wished we could get away
from business as often as he did just to "play" on the farm--and all the
time he had been trying out new methods so as to talk helpfully to the
farmers!
I began to understand more and more why Barlow was so successful. He
never guessed, but always got the facts first hand.
Just the same I'm convinced he made a mistake in not telling his workers
more of his methods--he would not have been so often misunderstood and
misjudged by his employees if he had had meetings with them similar to
my Monday evening "Directors' Meeting."
Well, to come back to our meeting. Of course, we had decided to have a
full line of gardening tools. Jones suggested that we add garden seeds,
which we had never kept because Traglio, the druggist, sold them.
I demurred, saying, "We ought not trespass on Traglio's trade for seeds,
which he has had for years."
Charlie Martin said, "Of course, it's splendid of you, Mr. Black, to be
so considerate; but, after all, business is no 'After-you-Alphonse'
affair. I believe you should sell garden seeds. The hardware store that
sells garden tools is also the logical place for seeds."
Larsen agreed with Charlie, while Jimmie said, "Gee, boss, that's a
great idea--and let's grow some in the window so as to show the seeds
are there with the sproutin' act."
We finally decided to sell garden seeds.
Jones then suggested that we should make a big window display of seeds
and tools, "Not just a 'dead' display, you know, Mr. Black, but a
display of them in use. That's the way to attract attention to the
goods--show 'em being used," he concluded.
"How are we to show seeds in use?" I asked.
Jones was stumped and so was Larsen--even Jimmie had no idea. We all
looked at Charlie when he said, "I remember seeing a good display of
garden seeds once."
"Well," I said, "what was it?"
"As near as I can describe it, it was fixed like this," said Charlie.
"The floor of the window was covered with soil divided into little
plots. Each plot had a single variety of seeds arranged on top of it in
orderly rows. In the center of each plot was a 'talking' sign something
to this effect:
GIANT BEANS
A 5¢ package is sufficient for fifty square feet of
soil. They should, under normal conditions, produce
---- pints of beans, worth at retail $3.75.
"I don't remember the price, the ground space, nor the production,"
confessed Charlie, "but that's the general idea. The five cents' worth
of seeds (or whatever the amount was) was visualized. The amount of
ground they required was then given, and, after that, the average
production and its value. At the rear of the window all kinds of
gardening tools were arranged--each one price-ticketed, of course."
"That's splendid," I said, enthusiastically. "We'll appoint you a
committee of one to find out what seeds to buy and all about them."
"I don't know the first thing about gardening," objected Charlie, "and
will be more than glad if you'll let some one else do it."
I was about to insist when, in an undertone, he added, "Believe me, Mr.
Black, I've a very real reason for asking you to excuse me."
"Very well," I replied, somewhat nettled. "Jones can do it."
I wondered why Charlie was so earnest in wishing to be excused!
"Well," I said briskly, "that disposes of one thing. What else can we do
this spring to boost business?"
"The fish are biting," said Larsen. "Stigler has a sign in his window
that says so."
"I intended stocking fishing tackle this season!" I exclaimed. Then,
after a pause, "And we'll do it, too. I'll not let Stigler put anything
over on me."
"He's always sold 'em, so I understand," said Charlie, "so perhaps you
will want to consider him and his trade as you did Traglio."
I saw a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, for he knew my contempt for
Stigler. "Oh, that's different," said I, lamely.
"In that case," continued Charlie, dryly, "I suggest we sell fishing
tackle--and do it right away. If I can help I will, for I do know
something about fishing."
Just then I thought of Barlow and his grip on the farming implement
trade, and, at the same instant, I saw a way of applying his principles
to fishing, so I said, "Here's a plan for boosting fishing tackle. We'll
have Martin find out right away what pools and rivers there are in our
locality. We'll also find out what kind of fish can be caught therein.
All this information we'll have in black and white so that we all can
learn it."
As I talked the plan enlarged and took definite shape.
"Then," I continued eagerly, "we'll find out the best ways to get to all
these fishing grounds--fishing waters, I mean," I said, as they all
began to laugh. "In addition to that, we'll find out where to stay;
where to pitch a tent if necessary, where supplies can be bought, and
anything else that will help the fisherman to know where to go, what to
catch, where to live while there, and, most important of all for us,
what kind of tackle to use to catch the fish he's after."
"In other words," I said, triumphantly, "we'll make ourselves experts on
fishing, so that people wanting to know when the ice is off the lake, or
when the season is 'on' or 'off'--where fishing is reported good or
poor; or what flies are in the market--will naturally gravitate to our
store."
They all became enthusiastic over the plan, and Charlie promised to have
the data all ready by the end of the week.
Jimmie then asked what we purposed doing about baseball goods and other
sporting goods. We decided, much to his disappointment, that, while we
ought to have them, we couldn't manage it that year.
"Barlow's already got 'em," said Larsen. "Too late now. Cream of trade
already drunk by 'pussy' Barlow."
I felt vexed to think we had lost our chance on them, just because I had
not thought ahead sufficiently.
The next day, I had quite a disturbing talk with Jock McTavish. Betty
had told him about my endorsing a note for five hundred dollars for my
old school chum, Larry Friday.
"Ye see," said Jock, "your credit is no' too good." I was about to
protest, indignantly, when Jock continued, "Bide a wee, lad, and let me
hae my say.
"Let's see what your live assets are," he continued. "There's your
beesiness, o' course; but your bank account is only sufficient--barely
sufficient, ye ken--tae meet your bills and current expenses. As a
matter o' fact," he said gravely, "ye lost some discount last month for
no' paying in ten days. I've told ye before never to lose discount.
Borrow the money first. It pays to borrow money at six per cent. per
year to make it earn two per cent. in ten days--or thirty-six per cent.
per year."
"Yes, yes," I said, impatiently, "you've told me that before."
"Exactly," said Jock, "but ye didna do it--and knowing ye ought to isn't
worth a piper's squeal--unless ye do it.
"Then," he went on, "ye hae the farm--or rather ye haven't, since
Blickens holds the mortgage on it--and makin' ye pay ten per cent.
interest as weel.
"So your quick assets are practically nothing. And here ye are, Black,
wi' no quick assets--and increasing liabilities (I blushed a bit at
that, for I knew he was referring to Betty) ye go and add to your
difficulties by adding a potential liability o' five hundred dollars."
"That's nonsense," I retorted. "Friday's as good as gold for it, and
I've not the least chance of having to meet the note."
"That's what they aw' say until--" this from Jock.
"And suppose," I said, "I did have to pay it, I guess I could with all
the profit I am making. You, yourself, worked it out and should know."
"Profit? Profit?" said Jock. "I didna say ye had any profit. I said the
beesiness showed a profit, which is a horse o' anither color."
"How so?" I asked.
"Profit is no' made 'till goods are sold and paid for," explained Jock.
"Your accounts receivable are only worth the value o' the creditors--and
some ye hae are nae good. Your beesiness shows a paper profit, but it
has all gone into stock. If ye hae tae realize on it, quickly, it would
shrink alarmingly in value. In fact, with a forced sale ye would show a
big loss on your beesiness venture instead o' the paper gain ye show
noo."
I had never realized this before, but the way Jock explained it made it
clear to me, and it certainly worried me, for I had been feeling
contented and satisfied that everything was going along nicely, and here
came Jock, who proved to me that all my profit was potential.
"Ye can't claim tae hae a pr-rofit," Jock said, "until ye hae the actual
money oot o' the beesiness. Never mind what the wise ones tell ye,
profit is no' real profit unless it is a cash one which the beesiness
can spare. Ye can't spare any money frae your business, so ye hae no
real profit."
"How am I to pay the bonus to the men?" I asked.
"Ye can't," said Jock, "till ye stop increasing your stock so mooch."
"Look into this matter also," here Jock wagged his finger at me; "see
that ye don't increase your stock investment wi'out increasing your
sales correspondingly. If ye are the merchandiser I think ye are, ye'll
try to cut doon stock investment and keep up your sales--and increase
'em, thus speeding up your turn-over.
"Remember," his parting words were, "never miss your interest on the
farm mortgage. If ye do Blickens 'll tak it."
Do you wonder I felt worried? I felt as if the ground had been cut right
from under my feet. To add to my troubles Stigler advertised a cut-rate
sale on garden seeds!