Then we stopped fooling, and began to talk of general matters. I told him about Larry Friday.

"Poor old Larry," said Fred.

"Why poor old Larry?" I asked, with a sinking feeling in my heart.

"Why the poor devil only got clear of the bankruptcy court three months ago. You know he tried to run the Providence business after his father died, but he made a bad mess of it. Still, I guess he's learned his lesson."

I had a cold feeling around my heart, and I began to wish that I had heeded Betty's advice. A five hundred dollar note is not much to endorse, if a fellow's got the money; but--

"But can he?" I heard Betty ask.

"Of course he can!" said Fred.

"What's that?" I asked, coming out of my brown study.

"I suppose you know," Fred said, "that I am an agent for the Michigan car, the best little four-cylinder on the market, twenty miles on a gallon of gas, seats five people, rides like a feather bed, nine hundred and fifty dollars."

"Hold on," I cried, "if you have come here to sell me a car, just beat it while the beating is good."

"I have not," he said, "I have come to tell you that you and Charlie Martin are going joy riding with me. I have to go to Hartford to attend the conference of the eastern managers of the Michigan Car Company, and I think the ride, and a day or so off, would do you and Charlie a world of good."

"But we can't get away."

"Can't!" jeered Fred. "Hear the man, Betty," he said, turning to her.

"Here is a man in business who says 'can't.' Don't you know that failure comes in 'can't's' and success comes in 'cans.' How many cans of it can I sell you?"

"You're full of it to-day, aren't you?" I said.

"Bet you I am, had eggs for breakfast, and am full of yokes."

"But," I said, "Charlie and I can't get away together."

"I'll be around at the house at nine-thirty to-morrow morning, and I'll pick Charlie up before I get here. We will stay at Hartford on Monday night, and Tuesday I will leave you folks to enjoy yourselves for a short time while I attend the conference."

"There isn't anything to do in Hartford," I said.

"Nothing to do! Say, Dawson, wake up! You--a retail merchant--saying 'nothing to do' when there's a bunch of good retail stores there, every one of which should give you a number of good ideas. Don't you want to see the Charter Oak? Why, there's a whole lot of interesting things in Hartford, and it certainly would do you and Martin good to visit there and get an a.s.sortment of good wrinkles. Besides, I want to tell you boys something about automobiles."

"That's awfully good of you, Fred," I said, "but honest Injun, I'm not interested in automobiles."

"Autos be blowed!" he said.

"Blown," corrected Betty, smiling.

"Have it your own way," said Fred. "Now," said he, turning to me, "you and Charlie are coming with me to-morrow as my guests, and I'm going to give you a real good time. I'll be through at the meeting at four or five o'clock Tuesday night, and then we'll have a good dinner and a nice midnight ride back home."

"I will go," I said.

"I knew you would," he replied, "and now, Betty, what about that bread-breaking stunt you spoke of?"

CHAPTER XLII

JOCK MCTAVISH DISTURBS THE PEACE

How work does pile up on one when he is away from business for a day or two! I was away less than two days; but it took me practically a whole week to get caught up. I suppose that it was because Charlie and I had gone away together.

I had a fine time in Hartford. Fred Barlow was full of ideas. He told me something about a plan that he was then working out for chain garages in connection with hardware stores.

"You're crazy," I told him. "No one has ever done anything like that before."

"Good boy!" he said. "The very fact that no one has ever done it before shows that it has a chance of success. I may have something to say to you about that later on," he said, mysteriously.

We had a very interesting meeting the following Monday. Our Monday evening meetings were certainly valuable, and I wouldn't have discontinued them for anything. It kept the fellows thinking and working in the interests of the business.

The matter for discussion was, "What can we do to boost sales this spring?"

A few days before I had asked old Barlow why he always got the trade for farming implements. His reply had interested me very much. He said:

"I know exactly the uses of all farming implements I sell. I know what kind of soil we have for miles around Farmdale. I know what kind of crops rotate best, and what fertilizer is best for each crop. The result is that I can advise the farmer what to buy, why he should buy it, and how to get the best results from using it."

"You must be a regular farmer yourself," I had exclaimed with surprise.

"When did you learn farming?"

Barlow had smiled as he said, "I realized early in the game that if I meant to win the farmers' trade, I must win their confidence by knowing their needs, and talking in their own terms; so I bought that little farm at Mortonville, eight miles from here, just to experiment with and to study farming."

It just showed how easily a boss can be misunderstood. When I worked for old Barlow we fellows had always thought he was having a good time every spring, summer and fall at his farm, and had wished we could get away from business as often as he did just to "play" on the farm--and all the time he had been trying out new methods so as to talk helpfully to the farmers!

I began to understand more and more why Barlow was so successful. He never guessed, but always got the facts first hand.

Just the same I'm convinced he made a mistake in not telling his workers more of his methods--he would not have been so often misunderstood and misjudged by his employees if he had had meetings with them similar to my Monday evening "Directors' Meeting."

Well, to come back to our meeting. Of course, we had decided to have a full line of gardening tools. Jones suggested that we add garden seeds, which we had never kept because Traglio, the druggist, sold them.

I demurred, saying, "We ought not trespa.s.s on Traglio's trade for seeds, which he has had for years."

Charlie Martin said, "Of course, it's splendid of you, Mr. Black, to be so considerate; but, after all, business is no 'After-you-Alphonse'

affair. I believe you should sell garden seeds. The hardware store that sells garden tools is also the logical place for seeds."

La.r.s.en agreed with Charlie, while Jimmie said, "Gee, boss, that's a great idea--and let's grow some in the window so as to show the seeds are there with the sproutin' act."

We finally decided to sell garden seeds.

Jones then suggested that we should make a big window display of seeds and tools, "Not just a 'dead' display, you know, Mr. Black, but a display of them in use. That's the way to attract attention to the goods--show 'em being used," he concluded.

"How are we to show seeds in use?" I asked.