STRIKING A BALANCE
It is not to be supposed that devotion to baseball dulled the partners’
interest in their business venture. That was still absorbingly
exciting. Every morning at a little before eight either Joe or Jack, or
sometimes both of them, went to the Adams Building and superintended
the opening of the stand for the day’s business. The counter was
dressed with its magazines and boxes of confections and newspapers,
the cash register set up and unlocked, and business was talked over
with Young. In the afternoon, usually a little after five, both boys
returned and Young, giving an account of his stewardship, went off.
Young had turned out very satisfactorily and his employers were a
little ashamed of their suspicions regarding his integrity. It only
proved, Joe declared, that it didn’t pay to judge a fellow by his
looks. Young was a smart salesman, polite in an off-hand way, and, so
far at least, had neither caused shrinkage in the cigarette stock or
made away with a penny of cash. Consequently both Joe and Jack tried
to be friendly with him. That they couldn’t quite succeed was not for
the want of trying. There was just one thing that they found objections
to, and that was the fact that the news-stand was fast becoming a
favourite loafing place for a number of the town’s “sports,” men and
boys of about Young’s age who had no apparent occupation save that of
smoking cigarettes. They had spoken to Young and he had agreed to do
what he could to keep the fellows away, but matters did not seem to
mend and the partners daily feared to receive a protest from Mr. Adams.
Meanwhile the stand had branched out into new avenues of trade. The
“Adams Building Cigar” had appeared on the market and had met with
favour and rapidly increasing sales. A small advertisement in the
morning and evening papers had drawn attention to the cigar and to the
news-stand and the latter was no longer dependent on the occupants of
the building alone for patronage. The little shop became a popular
place and trade increased until, especially during the noon hour, it
was all Young could do to attend to customers.
A week or so after they had started in business they had been called
on by a young man who had proclaimed himself rather importantly to
be a representative of the _Evening Recorder_. The result of his
visit had been a half-column story in the next day’s paper of the
novel store where customers helped themselves and paid on honour. It
was a big advertisement for the little establishment and for several
days afterwards folks came in just to see it and, usually, purchased
something if only because of the novelty.
Post-cards, too, were added, a series of six views of Amesville scenes,
and attained such popularity that Joe’s original order had to be
quickly duplicated. The picture of the Adams Building especially sold
like hot cakes. Puzzles were another addition to the stock, ingenious
contrivances of metal or wood or tin that could be dropped in the
pocket and that sold for exactly double what they cost when purchased
from the news company. The cigar trade, however, was what accounted
for most of the business done. The little showcase was no longer too
large for its contents. On the contrary, it became more of a problem
every week to find room in it for the goods they wished to display.
Instead of five brands of cigars they now offered twelve, and of each
brand they had to keep in stock from two to four sizes. Cigarettes and
smoking tobaccos had also multiplied, while the top of the showcase
held an assortment of gum, candies, and small confections, as well as
the revolving post-card rack. In fact, the small space was already
overcrowded and the boys had been for some time contemplating making
a request to Mr. Adams for a shelf across the back to hold the cash
register and the overflow from the case.
One evening Joe and Jack arrived at the building in a pelting rain
which had appeared without warning, and the exclamations of dismay
which he overheard as the feminine population of the building faced
the alternative of getting wet or being late for supper put a new idea
in Joe’s mind. The next day a sign appeared over the stand: “Umbrellas
for Rent.” They put in a dozen cheap cotton umbrellas which, if not
much to look at, performed their mission satisfactorily. Customers, if
they worked in the building, merely left their names, paid a quarter
and were supplied with protection from the rain. In the course of time
the dozen dwindled to five or six, but by that time each had paid for
itself thrice over and instead of wasting effort in recovering the
missing ones Joe bought more. About this time an automatic telephone
instrument was installed on the counter and proved a great convenience
to the boys and to others as well.
At the end of the first four weeks of business the partners went over
their books――or book, to be more accurate. They found that they had
expended for stock, rent, clerk’s wages and incidentals the sum of
$226.50, that they had taken in $324.17, and that their net profit was
$97.67. While less than the estimate Joe had made, the amount was held
to be satisfactory, for Joe’s estimate had taken no account of clerk’s
wages and they were paying Mr. Chester Young ten dollars a week.
Something like thirty per cent. profit ought to have satisfied anyone!
They paid off all indebtedness――there were no accounts save that with
the news company, which they settled weekly――set aside the amount due
Mr. Adams for rent to date and halved the balance, each receiving as
his share the sum of $48.83. The odd cent was left in the treasury!
Then Joe paid back to his partner the borrowed thirty dollars, with
interest at six per cent., although Jack insisted that Joe should
wait until the end of the next month at least. But Joe preferred to
get square, he declared, and proceeded to do so by paying most of the
eighteen dollars remaining to him to Aunt Sarah for board and rent.
Jack’s father laughingly told them that he thought they had been in
rather a hurry to divide the profits and that it might have been a good
idea to have left a portion of the money in the business. Joe, however,
explained that they would have to buy nothing for nearly a week, except
the newspapers, and by that time they would have accumulated more
profits. “You see, sir, we’re taking in about fifteen dollars a day on
an average, and of that nearly four dollars and a half is clear profit.
So we won’t have to keep any balance on hand.”
“I see,” said Mr. Strobe gravely. “And what do you intend to do with
all the money you make, boys?”
“I’m going to put mine in the bank, I guess,” answered Jack. “I’ve
tried to think of something to spend it for, but I can’t!”
“And how about you, Joe?”
“I think I’ll start a bank account, too, sir, but I won’t be able to
for another month at least. I pay three dollars a week to Aunt Sarah,
you know, and I’d like to send a little money to my mother.”
“You could have done that now if you hadn’t paid back that thirty,”
said Jack reproachfully.
“I know, but I like to feel that I’m squared up with everyone. When I
get, say, five hundred in the bank, if I ever do, I’d like to invest
it in something, Mr. Strobe. Could I, do you suppose?”
“Certainly. An excellent idea, Joe. You might find a small mortgage
through the bank, or you could buy a few shares of some safe stock that
would pay from four and a half to five per cent. You’ll get only three
and a half from the savings bank. When you get ready to invest you let
me know and I’ll help you find something.”
One Saturday evening Joe boarded a train and went to Columbus to visit
his mother, spending a very pleasant Sunday with her and returning to
Amesville late that night.
If there was anyone even distantly connected with Joe’s business
venture who did not thoroughly approve of it, it was Miss Sarah
Teele. Aunt Sarah was doubtless pleased that Joe was earning money;
she had a very healthy admiration for folks who could do that, and a
correspondingly poor opinion of those who couldn’t; but the fly in
Aunt Sarah’s ointment was the fact that her nephew’s prosperity was
due to the sale of cigars and cigarettes and tobacco. That rather
spoiled it all in her eyes, for she was a fervidly outspoken foe to
tobacco in all forms, and considered the use of it closely akin to
the use of intoxicating liquors. Aunt Sarah made one exception. A
decoction of tobacco and water was an excellent preventive of bugs on
her window plants! If she could have had her way she would have limited
its use to that purpose. Consequently, from the first, she had viewed
Joe’s venture askance, hinting darkly that money earned by catering
to the vice of smoking was tainted money and would bring no benefit
to its possessor. Joe argued with her politely, but was quite unable
to shake her conviction. In the end they agreed to disagree, Aunt
Sarah comforting herself with Joe’s solemn promise not to allow the
association with what Aunt Sarah termed “the filthy weed” to undermine
his morals to the extent of causing him to smoke. For some weeks Joe
frequently found Aunt Sarah regarding him anxiously as though seeking
for signs of moral degeneracy produced by traffic in the obnoxious
article. Not discovering any, however, Aunt Sarah accepted the state
of affairs with the best philosophy she could command, and, to Joe’s
satisfaction, said no more about it. When he announced the result of
that first month’s balance his aunt’s struggle between pleasure and
disapproval was almost ludicrous.