The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

THE NEW MAN'S DILEMMA. whether there was anything in what Smith had said about his “ approach.” That man who had growled at him and passed by a minute or two ago—had he done so because he was annoyed at the way in which Barlow had rushed up to him and breathlessly rattled off that salesman’s lingo? There might be some cause for his annoyance there. Perhaps that was why Barlow had been turned down. On the next two or three men who came in, he took pains to try a more quiet advance. To no avail, though. Still groping for the fault with him that made his every offer to wait on a customer meet with rejection, /he de- cided that he had been too overanxious for sales all along. That was what had been the trouble with him from the start. Being an ambitious, hustling sort of fellow, when he couldn’t get a purchaser in the first few hours, he had become too zealous, and continued so every day since Monday. His anxiety had been apparent to the people he had approached in the store. It didn’t make a hit with any of them. No customer likes to feel that he is be- ing urged too strongly, pulled and hauled into buying goods. So they had all given Barlow the go-by. Well, he would try to remedy that. Taking up a position midway of the. main aisle he waited with impassive countenance till several customers en- tered. As they came toward him he stayed where he was without hurrying toward them as he had done before. It was his idea that by speaking at all before he was spoken to, he had be- trayed his eagerness for business. So now he waited for somebody to come up to him and ask him to wait on them. But nobody did so. With only one look, they all passed him by and bought their goods from the other clerks instead. And why they did so was growing more unfathomable every minute. “ Smith,” said Barlow, when he and the other salesmen returned from lunch that afternoon, “there is something 147 about me—about my appearance— that 1s shooing these people away. I want you to help me find out what it is. Look me over!” He stood before his friend in the center of the coat-room floor and turned around like a clothing-store dummy on a pivot. “ Well—what is it that’s wrong? ” he asked. “ Believe me,” said Smith sincerely, “I may be blind, and all that, but dog- goned if J can see anything the mat- ter with you, from head to heel, at all! ’~ “Look at this coat!” ordered Bar- low. “Is anything wrong with that? Has anybody tagged it with a ‘keep off’ sign?” “Nope, nary a tag!” replied the other. Both fell silent. “Look here, Frank!” Smith ex- claimed suddenly. ‘‘ What if this is a put up job? There’s nothing the mat- ter with you. But what if somebody has told people there is? ”’ “What’s that?” “Suppose somebody has gone and told all the customers who have re- fused to let you wait on ’em that you're a good man to keep away from—that you’ve got smallpox, or something like that. See what I mean?” “But such a thing is impossible! ” “How so?” “Where,” Barlow asked, “ would anybody who wanted to frame up such a lie get hold of the folks who have been coming in here all week? ”’ Smith rubbed his chin. “You say they’ve not been people who have ever been here before,” Frank continued. ‘“ So how could they be reached with any story about me? Every one of them has come in right off, the street. It’s absurd to think they ever heard of me before they saw me!” “ Well—” the other began. He stopped, struck by an idea. “The papers!” he exclaimed. (T$ Eh? 39 b CoOMmicbook CO