Adventure Magazine, March 1916 — page 127: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Too Much Business “Simple as sanding sugar,’ asserted Matt. “There won’t be any deliveries, my boy. It’s too crudely expensive. The jars are in eight different.designs, and the ladies, bless ’em, will want to pick and choose for themselves. All right. They’ll be given an order on the Paulett Furniture Company, and can call any time and get the goods. Paulett’s will handle the pots for me at a nickel a piece; and they'll give me a week’s exhibition display in their show-windows for a hundred dollars. Newspapers adver- tising the display—I’m going to splurge on this—four hundred dollars. Commission on, say to start with, a thousand jars, fifty dollars. Incidentals — printing, bags for jars, and so on—another fifty. Total gen- eral expense for the first week——’”’ “Six hundred dollars,’ announced Mit- chell. He had drawn up to the table and jotted down the items as Matt reeled them off. “Net profit on the week, nine hundred and twelve dollars.” “And fifteen hundred from then on,” crowed Matt jubilantly. “It’s horrible! Heh?” . Mitchell was staring at the figures before him. “Tf you can only do it,” he mused. “Do what?” “Get the orders.” “Ts that all? Pooh! Come along with me. Pick out any middle-class residence you wish, and time me. It’s a cinch, I tell you.” y | At without wrappings. It was an arm- . ful, but he didn’t mind. He led the way to the street. Mitchell followed. Both were salesmen; both knew the game—its risks, fascinations and rewards. Gambling is dull monotony beside it. There is no other game just like it. In forty minutes they were back. Matt had his contract, and a Mrs. Adkins had the jar. Matt stop- ped at the telegraph booth. ~ “Here,” he proclaimed modestly, “is where Old Pilkins loses the best man on his staff. Help me to break the news to him; something that will bring on apoplexy.” “Wait a minute,” cautioned Mitchell. “The jars—how are you going to get them?” “Talk ’em out of Wilson if I can; steal ‘em if I must. But I’m going to get ’em.” “But, your first week’s selling costs? You'll need a thousand for that—more!”’ ‘A MATT caught up the jar as it stood, 125 “T’ve eight hundred I can lay my hands on. I may have to let Wilson in with me, but I'll get by in some way or bust. It’s too good a thing to pass up. And, Luke, I’m surprised at you. You seem to have overlooked the milk in this little coconut I’m going to crack. It’s the catch you asked about. Do you know what it will do to Shifter if I turn in nine thousand dollars’ worth of orders a week? Bury him out of sight, that’s all!” Matt threw back his head and laughed. He could see the jelly-like laundryman’s de- spairing face. “T’m wise!” exclaimed Mitchell. “Shifter will have to settle or stand a damage suit.” “And he’s good and able to settle, you bet!” Matt declared. ‘Rated at sixty thou- sand. My lawyer says he’s worth twice that—made it in the Street—but it’s under cover. Income tax. Savvy?” Mitchell spoke earnestly. “Look here, Matt. I’m slow, but am I too late to nose in on this? I can manage a thousand if it will help——” Matt made a grab for his hand. “Help? It will do the trick! - I wasn’t going to ask you, Luke, but I was hoping for this. It’s fifty-fifty with us. And say, can’t you give me a lift with this job—take a week or two off?” “Not now; later, maybe. due in Wheeling, Thursday; and Pittsburg, Friday—Pittsburg! By Jove, I'll drop in on your house and give them an earful of chatter about this. They'll have to call a doctor for your boss.” “They’ll have to do it now,” Matt stated grimly. “I’m going to electrocute him.” He hunched himself over a pad of blanks, “Don’t!” interposed Mitchell. “Be dig- nified—sorrowful. That’s the way to do it. I’m positively Pilkins will begin to think he’s missed his» cue, and when I get through with him on F riday, he’ll be sure of it. Ten to one you hear from him again.” And this is what the little man back home found waiting for him when he came in from his meager lunch; Matt had copied it from a book of practical quotations Jim- my, the clerk, rustled up for him: “And must we part? Well, if we must, we must, and the less said the better.’ So long! This message was marked “Collect.” The charge was warranted; Pilkins had asked for his time. comicbook (G0)