"Nothing, it's a great idea. I'm going to advertise traction engines among the farmers, and offer a prize of two eggs to the farmer who makes it hoe a row of potatoes quickest."

"You are carrying the idea to a point of absurdity," I said. "What's the matter with my idea, anyhow?"

"Ask Charlie Martin; I guess he can help you," he answered. "And say, Dawson, I don't want to hurt your feelings; but, if I were you, I would not try any more brilliant stunts without talking them over with Charlie or some one else first. The bulk of your ideas are fine, you know, but occasionally you slip a cog."

I hung up the receiver, then turned to Charlie and said: "I thought I had a pretty good idea."

"You had a good idea," he said, "but worked it out incorrectly. It is such a bald attempt to sell bread mixers. You don't give any reason why they should buy bread mixers. The only reason you ask them to buy the mixers is to enter the contest. Now, the better-cla.s.s women won't do it, and the poorer people have not money to buy mixers."

"I never thought of that," I said.

"Then, again," said Charlie, "you have, or had, quite a good customer for hardware in the Empire Bread Company. I wonder what they will think of you urging people to stop trading with them?"

"Good heavens!" I gasped. "I never thought of that, either."

"Evidently not," said Charlie.

"I am going right down to see them," I said, and I seized my hat and, before he could say another word, I was on my way to see Mr. Burgess of the Empire Bread Company.

When I arrived at Mr. Burgess' office I heard him and Stigler (Stigler above all people) laughing. The boy told Burgess I was there, and I was asked to go right in, which, like a fool, I did.

"How-de, Black?" said Stigler. "Have yer just dropped around to see if Mr. Burgess will enter a loaf of bread in yer bread-mixing contest?"

I ignored him and turned to Burgess and said: "I didn't know you were engaged--I will wait until you are through."

"Don't bother, Black," said Stigler, "I am going now," then, turning to Burgess, he added: "All right, Mr. Burgess, I'll see that yer have them things this afternoon."

My heart sank when I heard those words, for the Empire Bread Company was a good steady customer of mine--one of the best, in fact. Burgess used to trade with Stigler, but they got at cross purposes over something and the business had come to me, and had been with me for over six months.

"Say, Mr. Burgess," I began, as soon as Stigler had left the room, "I'm awfully sorry for that ad."

"Don't you be sorry, Black," he said, "it will probably be good business for you. In fact, I think we will have to enter a loaf of bread in that contest ourselves. It might be good advertising for the Empire Bread Company to win the thirty-cent cheese dish, or whatever it is, that you are giving for making the best loaf of bread."

"I don't know how I ever did such a foolish thing," I said; "but I want you to know that I shall advertise to-night that the contest is abandoned on account of inability to get together the committee of judges."

"Hm!" said Burgess. "I can just imagine the people saying, 'I guess the Empire people got after him. That is why he is squealing.' Still, you know your own business best. And now please excuse me, for I am very busy."

"For heaven's sake tell me what I ought to do, Mr. Burgess! If I hadn't been so bull-headed I never would have got into this mess."

"And," smiled Burgess, "you think it is bad business to risk losing ours?"

"Why--partly--I certainly didn't want to hurt your business," I said.

"Believe me, Black, a thing like that won't hurt our business; but it's good to change at times, so we have switched over to Stigler for a little while. Some day, perhaps, we will give you a chance at some more of our business; and now you really will have to excuse me."

I found myself walking back to the store feeling very disconsolate, indeed. I decided that, at any rate, I would not risk any more advertising on that wretched bread-making contest, until I saw what was going to happen. Charlie met me near the post office. "I guess we have lost the Empire account, haven't we?" he asked.

I groaned.

"Well, cheer up, Mr. Black, we all make mistakes--and it will be forgotten in a day or two. But--" and then he hesitated.

"Go on, Charlie," I said, "I really want to get your advice."

"All right, then. If I were you, Mr. Black, whenever you plan any advertising, see first of all that it is not going to hurt any one else's business; next, whenever you run a prize contest, run one without any strings attached to it; and, when you give a prize--give something other than what you sell."

"Do you believe in prize contests?" I asked Charlie.

"As a general rule, no. I think if you have any money to spend for advertising, you had much better spend it in advertising just what you are selling, giving people reasons why they should buy your goods. That sounds humdrum and everyday, I know. There's nothing apparently brilliant about it, but it gets results. Notice the really big advertisers. They advertise the goods they have to sell, and it is very seldom you find them branching off into prize-contest ideas."

"What about the 'Globrite' flashlight?" I said.

"That prize contest complies with the three rules I mentioned. The prizes were _cash_ prizes and big ones. The public didn't have to buy anything to enter. The prizes were big enough to tempt people to study 'Globrite' goods, and that really advertised the flashlights to every contestant."

Somehow, Charlie's quiet confidence made me feel better. But, candidly, I hated to be seen on the street those days, for everybody asked me how the bread-making contest was getting on.

At the end of three days, we had not sold a single bread mixer!

CHAPTER XL

RULES FOR GIVING SERVICE

Our next Monday evening meeting had proved quite interesting. We had sold one bread mixer, but, thank heaven, no one had inflicted a loaf of bread upon us! I was hoping that that foolish stunt of mine would die a natural death--and that's a better one than it deserved.

The matter for discussion at the meeting was introduced by Jones, who had in his hand a copy of that little "Service" booklet which we had issued.

"I was thinking over this little booklet the other day," said he, "but, do you know, Mr. Black, I don't think we are living up to it, somehow."

"In what way do you mean?" I asked him.

"Well, we talk about service and how we want people to feel they are at home, and all that, and-- Oh, I don't know how to express it," he floundered.

I certainly didn't know what he was driving at. I looked at La.r.s.en, and his face was a blank; then I looked at Charlie, and, as I did so, he said:

"I'd like to ask Jones a question," and he turned to Jones, saying, "What you mean is that, while we talk of giving service, we have not any definite plan of going about it. Isn't that it?"

"Yep," said Jones, "we have no rules or regulations or anything of that kind."

"I see what you mean," I said. "You mean we _talk_ about service, but don't _give the atmosphere_ of service."

"That's exactly it," went on Jones, "we ought to be able to give people the feeling that they are being treated differently when they come into the store."

"Store atmosphere, that is," said Charlie, "and the way to get it is by having definite rules of conduct--rules which every one should live up to."

"Do you think it is worth while having a set of written rules of conduct in a little store like this?" I asked.