Tom was too busy just then to be thinking of promotion, or of woes by
the way; the busy season was coming on, and he had just been advanced
to the wholesale room; quite a step, and he couldn’t help liking it,
though Hal was in the same department. Hal was a good fellow enough
when he didn’t happen to feel like saying anything disagreeable, and
when he did--pshaw! would Tom never get over being a goose?
Hal was busy in his turn; a customer had just come in whom the junior
partner had turned over to him with the whisper that it was especially
important he should be pleased, and Hal had been sharpening his
business wits to capture him. But it seemed for some time as if he
would not be caught; he knew precisely what he wanted and would not be
taken in any other net. But if he knew what he wanted it would only
be the more of a failure if Fenimore & Co. couldn’t suit him, and Hal
redoubled his energies, and called every resource into requisition.
At last it seemed as if triumph were at hand. The customer caught
sight of a lot of goods and stopped suddenly before them.
“There!” he exclaimed, “there’s something I should like, if they’re
what they seem to be;” and he stooped to examine them.
Hal caught a look from the junior partner which said, “Don’t have any
difficulty there; push your advantage,” and he waited anxiously for
what should come next.
The inspection was concluded, and the goods pronounced very handsome.
“Now what do you ask for those?”
At another look from the partner, Hal named the price, a trifle lower
than the mark.
“That’s reasonable,” said the customer. “I think I’ll take the whole
lot;” and Hal’s triumph rose to high-water mark as the junior smiled
across to him. A good piece of work for so early in the morning, for
this was a man who bought heavily and paid well, but had never brought
his patronage to Fenimore & Co. before.
“But wait a moment,” he said, “are these all you have?”
“All we have,” said Hal, “and we had the only invoice. We sold a
smaller lot to Pollard & Leighton, and I assure you no one else will
have them.”
“Ah! Pollard & Leighton have them? Then I do not care to take them, and
as I see nothing else that I require, I will bid you good morning,” and
with a bow he left the store.
The junior partner hardly waited for him to be out of hearing.
“And a nice piece of work you’ve made of it for a fellow almost
twenty-one, and coming into the firm before long! He didn’t ask you
if any of the goods had been sold, and you needn’t have gone out of
your way to tell him; but even if you must needs do that, it was quite
another thing to give names. We’ve lost that man now, I suppose.”
Hal walked into the next room without a word, more annoyed and
chagrined than at anything that had happened since he had been in the
store. He had made a great mistake and there was no getting over it,
and he had sufficient pride in Fenimore & Co. to feel sorry enough at
the best; but the junior being so disturbed about it made the matter
worse. However there was no use fretting, and perhaps he should find
something in the next room to help him forget it.
Yes there was something sure enough. Tom had got hold of an equally
desirable customer, and was making a great swing with him. His spirits
were rising tremendously, and by the time he had finished his sale
he had forgotten that anything disagreeable had ever happened in the
course of his life.
“Who was that?” asked Hal.
“A man from Illinois,” said Tom, “and a pretty good thing we’ve made of
it too.”
“Let me see the bill,” said Hal, and he ran his eye over it.
“Look here,” he exclaimed, putting his finger on a point in the list
where Tom’s pride was particularly centred, “you didn’t sell him those
goods at the price marked here, did you?”
“Of course I did; why not?”
“Why not?” asked Hal, with the sting of the old sneer made sharper than
ever by the freshness of his own annoyance, “no reason in the world
that I know of, except that it is five cents a yard less than we paid
for them.”
Tom stood aghast, and his tongue seem fast to the roof of his mouth.
His first week in the salesroom, and a blunder like that! Should he be
sent down again in disgrace, or only left to feel as if he ought to be?
Hal’s own trouble went clear out of sight, and he laughed a most
exasperating laugh that Tom was only too familiar with.
“Better take that bill down to the senior,” he said. “Illinois is a
great state; perhaps he’d like to send you out there to establish a
branch.”
Tom’s memory suddenly ran back, he didn’t stop to ask how, to a certain
night, years ago, when he sat over his game of chess under Hal’s
gaslight, and the same miserable feeling that had sent him home so fast
that evening hugged him tight as he went down to the counting-room to
have things set right if there was any way to do it. He remembered in
what a hurry he had tucked himself away under his blankets that night;
but there was no such skulking to be done now; he had got to face
things the best way he could.
And he _could_ face almost anything if people only wouldn’t say
something disagreeable about it! He supposed it was ridiculous, but it
was no use; he would rather any one would knock him down any day. Well,
he must try to keep out of Hal’s way for a few days; that was all that
could be done this time.
But that was of no use either. Hal stood square in the doorway, with
two or three clerks at his side, the next morning, and the very first
salute was, “How’s Illinois this morning? Suppose we give three cheers
for the Hoosier state?”
For one moment Tom felt as if _he_ could have knocked somebody down;
but that wasn’t like Tom, and was gone again as quickly as it came,
only the old forlornness that had come to be almost an everyday thing
since he came into the store, stuck by.
The last straw breaks the camel’s back, and this time Tom found himself
getting desperate. He pushed past Hal, and made his way to his post,
but he was thankful enough that no important business came to him that
day; he should have made worse work of it than yesterday, for his only
thought was how to get out of it altogether, a thousand miles away if
he could, he didn’t care where or what became of him afterwards, if
only he need never see Hal again! And he _would_ get away! Hal was to
be junior partner himself soon, and things would be worse than ever,
and even if the day _should_ ever come when the firm kept their promise
to Mr. Willoughby, Hal would be above him still; and for ever, so far
as he could see. He would rather earn his living with a pick-axe, if
he could only be left to feel like a man while he carried it on his
shoulder.
“Don’t care what becomes of you, Tom Haggarty! All very well, but what
is going to become of the rest waiting for you at home?” whispered
something in his ear.
Ah, there it was, and it always came round to that again, no matter
what desperate resolves he took up for a moment.
Yes, he supposed he must stick where he was and take what came, though
he believed he’d rather be a galley-slave, provided nobody ever spoke
to him; it must be he wasn’t much of a man, after all, or nobody would
dare taunt him quite as often as Hal!
There was his voice at this moment!
“Where’s the hoosier general betaken himself? I want to inquire how
he’s brought out profit and loss this morning;” and Tom heard a laugh
from the younger clerks that seemed the echo of Hal’s own.