A Man of Samples. Something about the men he met "On the Road". William H. Maher
a mistake.
“That's no concern of mine,” said he, “and I rather think that Reachum is a man who knows his business as well as any of you. If you are higher than he is on guns you probably are on other goods. I guess you had better cancel that order.”
Here was a pretty how-do-you-do! How was I to get out of this box? I confess I was in great doubts as to what to do or say. I dared not sell Parker's guns at any such price, yet the man would cancel the order and probably always have a grudge against the house unless I sold him now. I could not believe that Reachum had made this price, and yet there was no telling what that house might or might not do.
“How many Parker guns do you want?” I asked.
“I don't want any. I only asked because it is a leading thing, and if a house is not low on that I conclude it is high on other goods.”
“I was going to say,” I said, “that I would meet the price.” I wasn't going to say anything of the kind, but as he didn't want any I was safe in saying it now.
“Then you may send me two. I think I know a place where I can sell two.”
Just so! I was in for it again, and in for it bad. Sometimes it pays to be smart, and sometimes it does not. This was one of the latter times. As a matter of fact I had no business to quote a discount greater than 20 per cent, but I had said 25 so as to make a good impression on him, and at 25 and 10 I was sure to catch Hail Columbia from the house.
Just then Bob, who had come over when appealed to about the list, said:
“There's that list you wanted,” and drew one out of a pile of papers on the desk. Tucker opened it with an air of satisfaction, but I could see his face grow black.
“D—n it, this isn't it.”
“Yes, it is; it's the one that came in yesterday, and there's the figures on it you made for Utley,” persisted Bob.
I did not wait on ceremony, but looked over Tucker's shoulders, and to my astonishment and delight, there was, in plain figures, discount on Parker guns, 15 and 10 per cent.
“How in thunder did I make such a mistake!” said Tucker, with a somewhat downfallen air.
“We all do it,” said I, anxious to help him out the best way I could. “Fifteen and 10 is low enough, but if they were offering 50 and 10 I would meet them.”
Don't you think, good reader, that this was a proper thing to say? It seemed so to me, and cost nothing, so I said it. I added, “You see, Mr. Tucker, my price of 25 per cent, straight was a better one than Reachum's. Shall I send the guns at 25?”
“Why, you just now said you'd sell at 25 and 10!”
“I said that because you said you were offered at 25 and 10, but as that was a mistake I take back my figures.”
“Well, let the Parker guns go.”
I was quite glad to do so. But it made it up-hill work for a few minutes, until Tucker had got over his chagrin about the guns. But we managed to get in smooth water again, and when we were through I had taken a fair order from him, and much of it was for little odds and ends that paid us a good profit. I bade him good-day with a feeling of gratitude, and assured him of my hearty thankfulness.
After dinner I tackled a general dealer. The hotel clerk told me the Pittsburg man, who was there a week before, had sold Cutter a bill, so I had no hopes of doing much with him, but I had two hours yet, and might as well improve them.
“Martin Cutter” was over the door, and I got an idea in my head that he was a long, thin individual, with black hair and whiskers. But he wasn't. He was of medium size, well built, and had an air of shrewdness and of business about him. He was waiting on trade, so I sat down and watched him and took notes of the stock. When he was through with his customer he came forward and met me pleasantly, spoke well of our house, but said he was just getting in a bill of revolvers and cartridges, and needed nothing in our line.
There was something about him that made me like him at once, and I had the feeling that I was making a pleasant impression upon him. We chatted about Pittsburg, about gun houses, about the cutting going on in prices, and the general dullness in all business. I think that when I went out of the store I had more respect for him as a man and as a merchant than I had for the two who had bought of me. Had he needed any goods, I would have given him my lowest prices at the first word. As I was walking back to the hotel I suddenly remembered that he was just the man to buy a certain pocket-knife that we had lately taken hold of, and I went back to speak about it to him.
“Are you sending goods here to any one?” he asked.
“Yes, two bills.”
“Then send me a dozen.”
I thanked him, and went off feeling better. The chances are always decidedly in your favor of selling a man whom you have sold before. The dealer who lets you leave town without an order this trip will let you go twice as readily the next time. I like to get him down in my order book even though it is for some very trifling thing, because of the influence it will have on the future.
I went to the hotel, copied off my orders, and mailed them, feeling that I had done extra well, and then sauntered leisurely to the depot. On the train a man behind me heard me ask the conductor about Rossmore.
He leaned over and asked, “Are you selling goods?”
“Yes.”
“Then we'll go to Rossmore together. What line are you in?”
“Guns and revolvers.”
“The devil you are! So am I.”
CHAPTER IV.
I didn't fancy going to a town with a competitor. I have now been on the road a good many years, and I do not fancy it to-day. If I can get in there one train ahead of him I will strain every nerve to do it, but rather than go in on the same train I would hang back and let him have the first “go” at the town and take my chances for what he leaves.
When two men selling the same goods are in a town together the dealers usually take advantage of it. They tell the first man that they may want this or that, “if they can buy it right,” and, after getting his price, say he can come in later. He knows very well that this means his competitor is to be consulted also, and he must have a very stiff backbone indeed if he does not cut his own prices at once.
So when my neighbor on the train told me he also was going to Rossmore and was selling guns and revolvers, I felt my courage ooze out of my fingers. He handed me a card, with a good-natured smile, and I read:
SHIVERHIM & GAILY,
Philadelphia.
I don't like to hand out a card as an introduction of myself to other traveling men, so I told him my name and that of my house, and we considered ourselves acquainted.
“Is this your first trip?”
Now, why in thunder should he have asked that? Did I look different from other traveling men? I felt as if he showed very bad taste in asking such a question and I made a note to never do it unless I wanted to be mean. But I told Blissam (that was his name) that it was my first trip.
“Then you'll find Rossmore a tough place to tackle.”
I said we had three customers there.
“So have we; so has every dealer that ever went there. They buy a handful of goods of everybody, and they buy most goll-darned cheap. They'll lie to you until your head swims. First, there's Fisher; keeps an eating room on the main floor and gun store upstairs. I'll go in and quote him Remington guns at $36, when you call he'll ask your price;