Jones was stumped and so was La.r.s.en--even Jimmie had no idea. We all looked at Charlie when he said, "I remember seeing a good display of garden seeds once."

"Well," I said, "what was it?"

"As near as I can describe it, it was fixed like this," said Charlie.

"The floor of the window was covered with soil divided into little plots. Each plot had a single variety of seeds arranged on top of it in orderly rows. In the center of each plot was a 'talking' sign something to this effect:

GIANT BEANS

A 5 package is sufficient for fifty square feet of soil. They should, under normal conditions, produce ---- pints of beans, worth at retail $3.75.

"I don't remember the price, the ground s.p.a.ce, nor the production,"

confessed Charlie, "but that's the general idea. The five cents' worth of seeds (or whatever the amount was) was visualized. The amount of ground they required was then given, and, after that, the average production and its value. At the rear of the window all kinds of gardening tools were arranged--each one price-ticketed, of course."

"That's splendid," I said, enthusiastically. "We'll appoint you a committee of one to find out what seeds to buy and all about them."

"I don't know the first thing about gardening," objected Charlie, "and will be more than glad if you'll let some one else do it."

I was about to insist when, in an undertone, he added, "Believe me, Mr.

Black, I've a very real reason for asking you to excuse me."

"Very well," I replied, somewhat nettled. "Jones can do it."

I wondered why Charlie was so earnest in wishing to be excused!

"Well," I said briskly, "that disposes of one thing. What else can we do this spring to boost business?"

"The fish are biting," said La.r.s.en. "Stigler has a sign in his window that says so."

"I intended stocking fishing tackle this season!" I exclaimed. Then, after a pause, "And we'll do it, too. I'll not let Stigler put anything over on me."

"He's always sold 'em, so I understand," said Charlie, "so perhaps you will want to consider him and his trade as you did Traglio."

I saw a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, for he knew my contempt for Stigler. "Oh, that's different," said I, lamely.

"In that case," continued Charlie, dryly, "I suggest we sell fishing tackle--and do it right away. If I can help I will, for I do know something about fishing."

Just then I thought of Barlow and his grip on the farming implement trade, and, at the same instant, I saw a way of applying his principles to fishing, so I said, "Here's a plan for boosting fishing tackle. We'll have Martin find out right away what pools and rivers there are in our locality. We'll also find out what kind of fish can be caught therein.

All this information we'll have in black and white so that we all can learn it."

As I talked the plan enlarged and took definite shape.

"Then," I continued eagerly, "we'll find out the best ways to get to all these fishing grounds--fishing waters, I mean," I said, as they all began to laugh. "In addition to that, we'll find out where to stay; where to pitch a tent if necessary, where supplies can be bought, and anything else that will help the fisherman to know where to go, what to catch, where to live while there, and, most important of all for us, what kind of tackle to use to catch the fish he's after."

"In other words," I said, triumphantly, "we'll make ourselves experts on fishing, so that people wanting to know when the ice is off the lake, or when the season is 'on' or 'off'--where fishing is reported good or poor; or what flies are in the market--will naturally gravitate to our store."

They all became enthusiastic over the plan, and Charlie promised to have the data all ready by the end of the week.

Jimmie then asked what we purposed doing about baseball goods and other sporting goods. We decided, much to his disappointment, that, while we ought to have them, we couldn't manage it that year.

"Barlow's already got 'em," said La.r.s.en. "Too late now. Cream of trade already drunk by 'p.u.s.s.y' Barlow."

I felt vexed to think we had lost our chance on them, just because I had not thought ahead sufficiently.

The next day, I had quite a disturbing talk with Jock McTavish. Betty had told him about my endorsing a note for five hundred dollars for my old school chum, Larry Friday.

"Ye see," said Jock, "your credit is no' too good." I was about to protest, indignantly, when Jock continued, "Bide a wee, lad, and let me hae my say.

"Let's see what your live a.s.sets are," he continued. "There's your beesiness, o' course; but your bank account is only sufficient--barely sufficient, ye ken--tae meet your bills and current expenses. As a matter o' fact," he said gravely, "ye lost some discount last month for no' paying in ten days. I've told ye before never to lose discount.

Borrow the money first. It pays to borrow money at six per cent. per year to make it earn two per cent. in ten days--or thirty-six per cent.

per year."

"Yes, yes," I said, impatiently, "you've told me that before."

"Exactly," said Jock, "but ye didna do it--and knowing ye ought to isn't worth a piper's squeal--unless ye do it.

"Then," he went on, "ye hae the farm--or rather ye haven't, since Blickens holds the mortgage on it--and makin' ye pay ten per cent.

interest as weel.

"So your quick a.s.sets are practically nothing. And here ye are, Black, wi' no quick a.s.sets--and increasing liabilities (I blushed a bit at that, for I knew he was referring to Betty) ye go and add to your difficulties by adding a potential liability o' five hundred dollars."

"That's nonsense," I retorted. "Friday's as good as gold for it, and I've not the least chance of having to meet the note."

"That's what they aw' say until--" this from Jock.

"And suppose," I said, "I did have to pay it, I guess I could with all the profit I am making. You, yourself, worked it out and should know."

"Profit? Profit?" said Jock. "I didna say ye had any profit. I said the beesiness showed a profit, which is a horse o' anither color."

"How so?" I asked.

"Profit is no' made 'till goods are sold and paid for," explained Jock.

"Your accounts receivable are only worth the value o' the creditors--and some ye hae are nae good. Your beesiness shows a paper profit, but it has all gone into stock. If ye hae tae realize on it, quickly, it would shrink alarmingly in value. In fact, with a forced sale ye would show a big loss on your beesiness venture instead o' the paper gain ye show noo."

I had never realized this before, but the way Jock explained it made it clear to me, and it certainly worried me, for I had been feeling contented and satisfied that everything was going along nicely, and here came Jock, who proved to me that all my profit was potential.

"Ye can't claim tae hae a pr-rofit," Jock said, "until ye hae the actual money oot o' the beesiness. Never mind what the wise ones tell ye, profit is no' real profit unless it is a cash one which the beesiness can spare. Ye can't spare any money frae your business, so ye hae no real profit."

"How am I to pay the bonus to the men?" I asked.

"Ye can't," said Jock, "till ye stop increasing your stock so mooch."

"Look into this matter also," here Jock wagged his finger at me; "see that ye don't increase your stock investment wi'out increasing your sales correspondingly. If ye are the merchandiser I think ye are, ye'll try to cut doon stock investment and keep up your sales--and increase 'em, thus speeding up your turn-over.

"Remember," his parting words were, "never miss your interest on the farm mortgage. If ye do Blickens 'll tak it."

Do you wonder I felt worried? I felt as if the ground had been cut right from under my feet. To add to my troubles Stigler advertised a cut-rate sale on garden seeds!