I think a man often does better work when he is spurred on by anxiety.
I had seen More & Less's man in the store across the street, so I
determined I would do my best at Bingham's and not get whipped out of
the town. Mr. Bingham met me as if he wished I was somewhere else, but I
was too eager to sell to care very much about his manner. I told him my
story as well as I could, and insisted that if he needed anything in my
line I could do him good.
“I don't need anything,” said he, “but what is all this talk of the M.
H. & Co. revolver?”
“It is coming into prominence,” I said, “and Jim Merwin gave it a big
boom in Cleveland the other day. McIntosh took him before the Police
Board, and they say Merwin outdid Buffalo Bill. McIntosh says the Chief
of Police took a Smith & Wesson, and Merwin a M. H. & Co., and each
tried to shoot the other with empty shells, Jim grabbed the Chief,
emptied his revolver of the shells and rammed the pistol in his ear
until the Chief yelled for mercy. Merwin gave such a war dance that they
had to call out the fire department to cool him down. He secured the
city's order for an outfit for the police, and M. H. & Co. stock has
gone up since then.”
“Do you sell them?”
“Yes, at factory prices.”
“Pho! All you men talk factory prices.”
“I mean factory prices.”
“Well,” said he, “I'm going to buy of Simmons after this; he beats the
factories. His New England man--”
“His what?”
“His New England man. Didn't you know he had opened a Boston office and
now drums New England?”
“I hadn't heard of that.”
“Oh, yes. St. Louis is going to run the country on hardware hereafter
and on guns. Simmons' New England man says they do a big business there;
dealers buy bills of $8.87 down. Their New York office isn't open yet,
but it's coming; they want Sam Haines as manager, or J. B. Sargent. They
do things up big down there.”
“How many M. & H. revolvers can I send you?”
“Don't want any now; just asked out of curiosity.”
This was discouraging, but I opened my price-book at A, and called
his attention to every item in it, but to everything received the same
answer, “Got it.” I began to get desperate.
“Look here,” said Bingham, “you seem to be excited, young man. I like
to see a man work, but if a fellow don't want anything, he don't, and
that's the end of it. I never bought a dollar from your house, and your
prices are no better than others.”
But I wanted an order. Whether he needed goods or not was no concern of
mine; I wanted an order and I was determined to get one if such a thing
were possible. Finally I struck Flobert rifles. “Look here,” I said, “I
have a special price on Flobert's target rifles--$2.10 by the case--but
I will give you a cut even on that; I will make them $2, and now I want
you to give me an order.”
“Two dollars,” he said, as if turning it over in his mind; “$2, eh? I've
a mind to go and see Madley with you.”
“Who is Madley?”
“He's a clothing man, and chain lightning about offering gifts to
purchasers. He has run cows, watches, pianos, and lager beer; maybe he'd
take hold of rifles.”
“Very well,” said I, “let's us go see him. What price shall I quote
him?”
“You needn't do any quoting; I'll make prices and you expatiate on the
goods.”
We started down the street to Madley's, and I was introduced to the
gentleman, a fussy, garrulous little man with an extremely red face.
Bingham opened the ball, and I never listened to more talented drumming
than he did that morning.
“Chris,” said he, “this young man is offering target rifles at a cut
price that knocks anything ever known. The boys have been buying them
very freely of late, and they are popular. I fancied they might hit you
as a gift with a boy's suit. If you can handle them I don't want any
profit, but am getting other goods from him, and you can ship with my
goods.”
“What are they worth?”
“Well, you have as much of an idea of the worth of a rifle as any one
else has; suppose you were going to buy one for your boy, what would you
expect to pay?”
“I don't know anything about them.”
“Oh, you've got some idea and I want to get it, for you will not be very
different from the average man in your estimate of cost.”
“Oh, d---n it, say $10; but I can't handle any such goods.”
“We don't ask you to at $10. But that is about the average idea
regarding price. Now, Chris, this man's price is $3.12.”
It struck me this was getting mighty close to “cost!”
“Eh, $3.12! How the devil can they make it at that?”
“Oh, they make it. How they do it is none of our concern. It would make
you a very popular gift and the boys would go wild over it.”
Madley turned to me. “Is that your bottom price?”
“I gave Mr. Bingham my very best figures.”
“How many have you got?”
“Any amount you want.”
He called two of his young men, and after a conference with them came up
to Bingham and said: “Bingham, I can't afford to let you make a profit
on these rifles. You wouldn't come up here if you were not making
something. The idea is a good one, and you may send your boy up and get
the best suit of clothes I've got, but I'm going to figure on rifles
before I order.”
“All right, Chris, go in.” He turned on his heel to go out, and I
followed. When we were on the sidewalk he said: “I don't give it up yet,
but I can play bluff as well as he can.”
“You asked too much advance, I am afraid.”
“Oh, I know him. I'll go for him by and by.”
And he did. I called in the afternoon and took his order for 100 rifles,
and he showed me a written order for them from Madley at $2.62. To these
he added several other items, making a very nice bill. I have always
noticed that, however much a man did not want any goods, the moment you
get him started there is but little difficulty in then getting his order
for some of the very things he told you he was not needing.
During this time I had no fear of the other salesman. My prices were
down so low I cared for no one, but I concluded I would go back to Mr.
Shull's, and see if anything was left for me there. He happened to be
at work at the shelves, which is a place I like to find a man at, and I
explained that I was in early in the day but saw he was engaged.
“Yes,” said he, “I had a gun man here all forenoon. He sold me all I
needed in your line. He says bull-dogs are going up.”
“I had not heard of it.”
“What are you selling at?”
What should I say? If he had bought I didn't care to quote a special
price, and I did not want to name a high price, for that might give him
a bad impression of the house in the future.
It is a difficult place in which a salesman finds himself, this quoting
prices to a man who has just bought. The temptation is always to name a
very low rate, perhaps even to go below your lowest selling price, for
the purpose of making the man feel that you would have been a better
man to buy from, but this is a two-edged sword, and I have not cared to
handle it. I concluded it would pay here to be frank.
“It is possible there is some advance of which I don't know,” I said,
“but my price has been $2.75 to $2.85, according to quantity.”
“That's what I bought at.”
I opened up on rifles, found him entirely out, and showed him my order
from Bingham for 100.
“What in Sam Hill is he going to do with 100?”
I did not enlighten him. I said: “Oh, every lad buys a target rifle
nowadays.”
“What price do you get?”
“Two dollars and ten cents by the case.”
“Case? How many's a case?”
“Thirty-six.”
“I don't want any case. If you want to send me a dozen at that you may.”
I wanted to, and got his order for another item or two, and left him,
feeling I had done pretty well.
This showing one merchant the order you have taken from his neighbor
is one of the easiest things in the world to do, but it is not always a
trump card. Still, it has a powerful influence in a majority of cases.
The best buyer who lives has times of doubting if his judgment is
infallible, and he is glad to brace it up by comparing with the judgment
of others. This he is able to do through having salesmen tell of the
orders given by other buyers, and be he never so smart, he very often
falls into their traps.
If you are a buyer you are, possibly, looking at a Russell knife,
listening to Booth's eloquent description of the way they are hand
forged, elegantly ground, and how Oakman inspects every blade and then
wraps it up carefully in Ella Wheeler Wilcox's last poem. The pattern
you have in your hand pleases you, but you wonder how others will look
at it. The question is not, “Do I like it?” but, “Will it sell?” You
are inclined to think it will, but just then your eye falls on scores of
patterns on your shelves that you thought would go like hot cakes, but
they have disappointed you. Perhaps, after all, your best way is to
wait; but just then Booth opens his little book and shows you where
Bartlett ordered 100 gross; Buhl, 50 gross; Ducharme, 25 gross, and
Blossom, 10 gross (but he puts his thumb over this last hastily), and
you tell him to send you a few. As I said before, I believe the best
buyer is more or less influenced by being told what others are doing,
and with the smaller trade it is constantly used to sway their decision.
Is it right?
I do not know. I am not writing of the ethics of business. I know that
traveling men use the order taken from one buyer to influence another,
and that it often has great influence, although I think the buyer is
not wise who acts upon such information. Even when he is told the strict
truth regarding the orders given by others, he ought to know his own
stock and trade so well that he could depend upon his own judgment. But
most of us like to lean on some one else, and when we are hesitating and
learn that our competitors have decided thus and so, it is easy to fall
into line and buy as they did.