MR. CHESTER YOUNG
The Adams Building News Stand prospered from the first. There was
never a doubtful moment. On Thursday business started off with a rush
and when, just before half-past eight, Joe and Jack had to hurry
unwillingly away to school, even Joe, now the more pessimistic of the
two, had to acknowledge that success seemed assured. After school they
flew back again to discover that the stand was well-nigh exhausted
of aught save magazines and that even those were half gone! They
had placed what they supposed to be a sufficient supply of cigars,
cigarettes, and tobacco on top of the case, but one cigar-box was
utterly empty, another held but three cigars, all but two packages of
cigarettes had disappeared, and the candy was down to the final layer
of boxes! The morning papers had been pretty nearly sold out before
they had left, and so the sight of the empty counter to the left of
the showcase produced no surprise. But the inroad made on the rest
of their stock brought gasps of astonishment. An awful fear assailed
the partners and with one accord they grabbed at the cash-box. But its
weight and the pleasant clinking sound it gave out reassured them, and
when, after they had taken account of stock and had reckoned up the
contents of the box, they discovered that not only had every purchase
been honestly paid for, but that someone had dropped in five cents too
much, they viewed each other triumphantly.
“Eight dollars and fifty-five cents!” exclaimed Jack awedly. “What do
you know about that? And it’s not four o’clock yet!”
“What’s troubling me,” replied Joe happily, “is how we are to stock
up again by morning! We can get the cigars, all right, but we’ve got
to have more candy and it takes a day or two to get that. And the
magazines are more than half gone, too.”
“Couldn’t we telegraph to Cincinnati for the candy?”
“Yes, but I guess we’d better buy some here meanwhile.”
“But there won’t be any profit on it!” wailed Jack.
“No, but we can’t help that. We’ve got to keep the stock up. We’ll
telegraph the Cincinnati folks to send fifty pounds this time.”
“Fifty!” exclaimed Jack doubtfully. “Isn’t that a lot?”
“Yes, but we’ve sold five pounds already and we don’t want to have to
order oftener than a week. The way they pack it, it keeps fresh for a
long time. Maybe it would be a good idea to put in a few pound boxes of
a better grade. Guess I’d better go around to the cigar folks now and
get a couple more boxes. What was that brand that Mr. Adams mentioned?”
“Mister Dyler, or something like that,” answered Jack. “I didn’t get
it.”
“Neither did I. But I guess they’ll know what I’m after. And we ought
to have some more magazines, I suppose, if only for show. It’s most
time for the March numbers to come out, though, and we don’t want to
overstock on the February. I’ll telephone to the news company and ask
them to send a half-dozen with the out-of-town papers. I’d better
hurry, too, or they’ll be here. Where is the nearest telephone? Look
here, Jack, Mr. Adams ought to have a public booth down here in the
lobby.”
“That’s so. It would be sort of handy for us, wouldn’t it? Do you
suppose he would if we asked him?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not afraid to ask. Maybe, though, we could
afford one of our own.”
“At thirty-six dollars a year? You must be crazy!”
“Is that what it costs? How about a two-party line? Or――――” Joe stopped
and regarded his partner thoughtfully.
“Out with it!” demanded Jack.
“Why couldn’t we have a public ’phone――one of those drop-a-nickel
affairs, you know, and set it here by the wall? I wouldn’t be surprised
if we made enough to get our own calls for nothing.”
“We might,” agreed Jack hesitantly. “How much would we have to pay the
telephone company?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow I’ll go around there and ask. Well, I’m off.
Pay the news company when they come. And pay for the _Recorders_, too.
I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Why don’t you go across to the store?” asked Jack. “The telephone’s in
the outer office. Just tell them I said you were to use it.”
“Too cheeky. I’d rather pay for the call myself. Out of the firm’s
money!” he added laughingly as he disappeared through the revolving
doors.
He was back some twenty minutes later. “Anything doing?” he asked as he
deposited two bundles on the counter.
“Lots,” replied Jack. “I sold two cigars, a package of cigarettes, one
_Recorder_, and a box of these mints. And I paid for the evening papers
and a dollar and twelve cents to the news company.”
“Did you put down what you’d paid out?”
“No. Should I?”
“If you don’t we’ll get all mixed up. I’ve got a small blankbook
here and I guess we’d better start in and keep a careful account of
everything. What papers did the news company bring?”
“All sorts. There’s one from New York. We’ll never sell that, Joey.”
“I don’t believe we will, but it doesn’t matter. After a week or
so we’ll find out just what papers we can sell, and how many, and
then we’ll confine ourselves to those. They brought the magazines I
asked them to? Oh, I see. All right. Things begin to look a bit more
business-like again. Undo this candy, will you, while I get the cigars
out. By the way, what do you think? That cigar that Mr. Adams smokes is
called Vista de Isla and it costs seventeen dollars and twenty cents a
hundred!”
“Great Scott! You didn’t buy any, I hope?”
“Twenty-five; four dollars and thirty cents. Here they are.”
“Well, but, say, Joey, that’s pretty steep! Suppose he doesn’t buy any?”
“He will. He said he would. And the chap who sold these says we must
have a wet sponge in the case to keep the cigars moist. So I got one.
Also a five-cent glass dish to put it in. Run upstairs and get it wet,
will you, while I arrange these?”
“All right. How much do those cigars sell for apiece, Joey?”
“The man said twenty-five cents, but I don’t suppose Mr. Adams pays
that much at his club for them. I thought I’d ask him. We can sell them
at twenty cents and still make a good profit.”
“Twenty-five cents!” murmured Jack. “Think of paying that much for one
cigar! And they don’t look much, either.”
“You happen to be looking at the ten-centers,” laughed Joe. “The others
are here.” He opened the lid of the flat box and revealed a row of
greenish-black cigars quite different from the others in appearance
and aroma. “I guess these are something extra, eh?”
“Must be, but I think anyone’s a chump to pay a quarter for a cigar,”
responded Jack. “Where’s your old sponge?”
Business that evening was brisk and the seventy-five copies of the
_Recorder_ disappeared like magic and Jack had to hurry out on the
sidewalk and buy extra copies from a newsboy. “Tomorrow we’ll get
a hundred,” said Joe. “If we don’t sell them they can go back.” By
closing time three dollars and thirty-four cents had been added to
the amount in the box, swelling the total sales for the day to over
fourteen dollars!
That evening, in Jack’s room, they tried to figure their profits. They
had taken in in the two days exactly seventeen dollars and forty-four
cents. Since, however, they had not been able to enter each sale as
made, it was difficult to arrive at the desired result. They knew
that on each morning or afternoon paper they made a profit of one
cent, that on each half-pound box of candy they made eight cents, that
magazines netted from four to six cents, and that cigars, cigarettes,
and tobacco sold for from ten to twenty-five per cent. above cost.
After much figuring they came to the conclusion that their profits
were represented by about one-quarter of the amount taken in, or
practically four dollars and thirty cents.
“And at that rate,” said Joe, “we ought to make a monthly profit of
about one hundred and twelve dollars!”
Jack stared unbelievingly. Then his face fell. “But we’ve got to pay
the rent out of that,” he mourned.
Joe laughed. “You’re getting to be a regular Shylock, old man! The rent
is only eighteen and that leaves us ninety-four. And besides that we
haven’t to pay any this month.”
Jack brightened again. “That makes forty-seven dollars a month for each
of us, doesn’t it? And that’s nearly twelve dollars a week! Joey, we’ll
be millionaires before we know it!”
“Well, it pays better than carrying that newspaper route! Another
thing, Jack; there’s no reason why we shouldn’t do better as time goes
on. We can keep other things, you know, like post-cards and――Look here,
why not get a good line of Amesville views?”
“Views? What sort of views?”
“Why, you know; the City Hall and First Presbyterian Church and the
Adams Building, of course, and City Park and all the rest of the
show places. Have them made into post-cards, I mean. There’s a firm
in Detroit that’ll print them for us, and they don’t cost much of
anything.”
“Sounds all right. I guess there are lots of things we could sell that
we haven’t thought of yet.”
“There’s one thing I’d like to do,” said Joe thoughtfully, “and that’s
have a special brand of cigars made for us. That is, we don’t have
them made for us exactly. We just select a good brand and then the
factory puts a special label on them. See what I mean? ‘Adams Building
Perfecto’ or something like that. If we got a real good quality,
Jack, and sort of pushed it we might get quite a trade. As far as I
can see there’s no reason why we should depend on the folks in the
building for our trade. If we carry things people want they will come
in from outside for them. It’s just as easy to drop into the Adams
Building lobby as it is to go into a regular store. We might run an
advertisement in the paper after we get ahead a bit. ‘Try the Adams
Building Perfecto, the best ten-cent smoke in the city. Sold at the
Adams Building News-Stand.’”
“You can think of a lot of ways to spend our profits,” said Jack sadly.
“Advertising pays,” replied Joe. “Anyway, we haven’t fairly started
yet, Jack. You wait until we’ve been there a couple of months and
I’ll wager our sales will be double what they were today. For one
thing, the building isn’t filled yet. There are lots of offices still
vacant. Every time one is let we get one or two or maybe a half-dozen
prospective customers. Come to think of it, Jack, there’s no reckoning
that, for it isn’t only the folks who occupy offices in the building
who will trade with us, but the folks who have business in the
building, folks who come in and out. I’d like to know, just for fun,
how many go through that door every day. Bet you there’s nearly five
hundred of them, or will be when the offices are all rented! Suppose,
now, that only one out of ten stopped and bought from us, and that they
only spent five cents apiece. That would be――fifty times five――two
dollars and a half right there, besides our regular trade. And I guess
they’d average nearer ten cents apiece than five, too.”
“How much,” asked Jack, “would we have to pay a clerk to tend the stand
for us?”
“I’ve thought of that,” replied Joe, “and I guess we could get a young
chap for about six dollars a week.”
“The fellow we’d get for that price wouldn’t be worth having,” said
Jack sensibly. “I think it would pay us, perhaps not just now, but
after we’d got going well, to hire a real clerk and pay him ten dollars
a week; some fellow who had sold cigars and things like that and who
could make sales; talk things up, you know, and hustle.”
“I guess you’re right,” answered Joe, after a moment’s thought. “And I
believe it would pay us to do that. I dare say there will be times when
folks won’t have just the right change with them and we’ll lose sales.
Besides, when we get to playing baseball we won’t either of us be able
to be at the stand except just for a few minutes in the morning and
evening. Well, we don’t have to think of that quite yet.”
“Indeed, we do, though, Joey. In another week we’ll be staying in the
cage until five o’clock or so. Of course, that scheme of putting folks
on their honor has worked all right so far, and I don’t say it wouldn’t
always work, but someone’s got to be at the stand to receive the papers
and pay for them.”
“We might have a monthly account with the papers and the news company,”
said Joe thoughtfully. “I guess they’d be willing. Still, you’re right,
Jack. We’ll start out and see if we can find a clerk. How would it do
to advertise?”
“I suppose that’s the only way. Or, hold on, why not look at the
advertisements? Some fellow may be advertising right now for a job like
this. I’ll go down and get the paper and we’ll have a look.”
They found nothing promising that evening, but two days later they
did, and in response to their reply, left at the _Recorder_ office,
Mr. Chester Young called on them Sunday afternoon. Mr. Young was
a well-dressed, dapper youth of twenty-one or -two who consumed
cigarettes voluminously and had a pair of somewhat shifty black eyes.
The boys didn’t fancy his personality much, but he convinced them
that he knew how to sell goods and presented recommendations from a
former employer in Youngstown that read extremely well. They dismissed
the applicant with a promise to let him hear definitely from them on
Tuesday, and Mr. Chester Young, tucking his bamboo cane under his arm,
took himself smilingly out.
“What do you think?” asked Jack when the front door had closed.
“I think,” replied Joe, “that I wouldn’t trust that chap around the
corner.”
“Me, too. But he looks smart, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. I think he’d be just the fellow for us if――How much does a small
cash register cost?”
“Search me! But if we had one of those――――”
“Yes, I guess Mr. Chester Young wouldn’t have much chance to get
absent-minded with the cash. First of all, though, we’d better get
that man he worked for on the long distance and see what he has to say
about Chester. Then, if it’s all right, we can price a cash register. I
suppose we could get one for twenty-five dollars, don’t you?”
“I should hope so! Where’d we get the twenty-five?”
“We’ll have it in another day or two. We’re pretty well stocked up now
and won’t need to buy much for a week, I guess. I wish, though, that
Mr. Chester Young could look you in the eye for more than a thousandth
part of a second!”
“So do I. And did you see the number of cigarettes he smoked in the
time he was here? Do you suppose he’d help himself from stock?”
“If he did there wouldn’t be any stock very long,” laughed Joe. “Let’s
go through the advertisements in today’s paper again and see if we
missed any. Seems to me there must be more fellows than Mr. Chester
Young looking for work.”
“Yes, but most of them want to be book-keepers or chauffeurs. We
may want a chauffeur some day, but not quite yet, and as for a
book-keeper――――”
“We need one, but can’t afford him,” ended Joe. “You’re right. There’s
nothing here. I guess Chester’s the only thing in sight.”
Five days later Mr. Chester Young was installed behind the counter in
the Adams Building and at his elbow reposed a neat cash register. The
former employer of Mr. Chester Young had reported most favourably on
that gentleman; indeed, to hear him one could not help wondering why he
had deprived himself of Mr. Young’s services! Joe left the telephone
booth rather puzzled, but there seemed no good reason for doubting the
Youngstown man’s veracity, and they decided after some hesitation to
give the applicant a trial――if they could find a cash register they
could afford to buy! Fortune favoured them. The proprietor of a fruit
store whose business was expanding had one to sell and they closed the
bargain with him at seventeen dollars, thereby securing a machine that
had originally cost forty-five.
Mr. Chester Young started out well. The sales during his first day at
the stand were better than for any other day, and neither Joe nor
Jack could see that the supply of cigarettes had fallen off unduly.
Perhaps, as Jack pointed out, this was because they did not carry the
kind affected by their clerk! They did not find that Mr. Young improved
much on acquaintance, but since he was attending to business and seemed
to take a genuine interest in the venture they tried to be fair to him
and to like him. In any event, it was lucky that they had found someone
to tend shop, for on the fifteenth day of the month Captain Sam Craig
called the baseball candidates together in the cage in the basement
of the school building, and for a long time after neither Joe nor his
partner had much leisure to devote to their business venture.