Bound To Succeed Part 13

"You have certainly been very fortunate," murmured Mrs. Ismond.

"Then if it is a streak of fortune solely," said Frank, "I propose to make it the basis of my bigger experiment. Yes, mother, I have fully decided I shall get into the mail order business right away. The first step in that direction is to see Mr. Morton, the Riverton hardware merchant who was burned out. He has gone into some book concern in the city. I shall go there on the night train, see him, and then I will know definitely where I stand."

"Is it necessary to see him?" asked Frank's mother. "Mr. Buckner says that everything he left at the fire was sold as salvage. The Lancaster man made you a present of that old zinc box. I don't see, having abandoned it, how Mr. Morton has any further claim on it."

"That is because you have not thought over the matter as much as I have," observed Frank. "Perhaps Mr. Morton doesn't know that the papers in the zinc box were nearly all saved. No, mother, I intend to start my business career on clean, clear lines. I feel it my duty to apprise Mr.

Morton of the true condition of things. If I lose by it, all right. I have acted according to the dictates of my conscience."

Mrs. Ismond glanced fondly and fervently at Frank. Her approbation of his sentiments showed in her glistening eyes.

A week had pa.s.sed by since the Lancaster man had settled up with Frank.

It had been a busy, bustling week for the embryo young mail order merchant and his a.s.sistants.

Frank had got his employees to sort out the myriad of needles into lots of twenty-four. He bought some little pay envelopes, and had printed on these: "Frank's Mail Order House. Two Dozen a.s.sorted Needles."

As said before, this was vacation time. There was scarcely a boy in Greenville who did not take a turn at selling the needle packages, which Frank wholesaled at six cents each.

Most of the boys sold a few packages at home and to immediate neighbors, and then quit work. Others, however, made a regular business of it.

Nelson Cady took in two partners, borrowed a light gig, and to date had met with signal success in covering other towns in the county.

"Why," he had declared enthusiastically to Frank only that evening, when he handed over the cash for two hundred new packages of the needles, which Mrs. Ismond was kept busy putting up, "if the needles hold out, I could extend and extend my travelling trips and work my way clear to Idaho."

"You are certainly making more than expenses," said Frank encouragingly.

"Yes, but you see"--with his usual seriousness explained Nelson, "that letter may come any day, and I want to be on hand to get it."

"Of course," nodded Frank gravely, but he felt that poor Nelson's hopes were like those of the man whose s.h.i.+p never came in.

While his young a.s.sistants were thus earning good pocket money and Frank was acc.u.mulating more and more capital daily, he kept up a powerful thinking.

A limitless field of endeavor seemed spread out before him. The handling of the salvage stock had been a positive education to him.

"I see where the Riverton hardware man failed," Frank said to himself many times, "and I think I know how I can succeed."

Frank packed up the contents of the zinc box in a satchel with a couple of clean collars, cuffs and handkerchiefs, and consulted a railway time-table.

"If I take the train that goes through Greenville at three o'clock in the morning, mother," he said, "I arrive at the city at exactly ten o'clock. Just the hour for business."

"Well, then, after supper you lay down and sleep till two o'clock. I will busy myself putting up some more of the needles," suggested Mrs.

Ismond. "I will have a little early morning lunch ready for you, and you can start off rested."

"Thank you," said Frank warmly. "It's worth working for such a mother as you."

Frank reached the deserted railway depot of Greenville in time for the train. Nearly everybody was dozing in the car he entered. He had a seat to himself, and plenty of time and opportunity for reflection.

Frank consulted the sheets of writing he had read to his mother the evening previous. They contained his business plans. He had figured out what two hundred dollars would do towards starting a modest mail order business. However, so much depended on the result of his interview with Mr. Morton in the city, that Frank awaited that event with a good deal of anxiety.

When the train neared the terminus Frank took a good wash, put on a clean collar, and tidied up generally. Leaving the train he bought a satisfactory meal at a restaurant, and was ready for business.

Frank soon located the book concern in which Mr. Morton had invested his money. It occupied four gaudy offices, one of which was occupied exclusively by Mr. Morton. Frank had to wait his turn for an interview.

While seated in the anteroom, he learned something of the business going on from the conversation of some callers there.

It appeared that the concern sold book outfits to canva.s.sers on a conditional salary guarantee. From what Frank gleaned very few ever made good, so the chief revenue of the company came from the original outfit sale.

Finally Frank was called into Mr. Morton's office. The latter looked him over with an urbane smile.

"Came in response to our advertis.e.m.e.nt for agents, I suppose?" he inquired.

"Not at all," replied Frank. "It is solely on personal business. I came to see you, sir--about your old business at Riverton."

Mr. Morton shrugged his shoulders impatiently, as though the reminder was unpleasant.

"Bills?" he growled out. "Thought I'd settled everything--sick of the whole business, and threw it up in the air for good. Go on."

"Why," said Frank, "I sort of represent the people who bought the salvage from the fire insurance folks."

"I have nothing to do with that."

"Among the debris there was a zinc box with some of your papers in it."

"Yes, I remember," nodded Mr. Morton. "Nearly all burned up, weren't they?"

"No, sir. In looking them over I found some of your old customers'

accounts, and that like. I thought they might be valuable to you, so I came down from Greenville where I live to bring them to you."

"You did?" exclaimed Mr. Morton with a stare, partly suspicious, partly surprised. "That's queer."

Frank said no more. He opened the suit case and removed its two neatly put up packages. One contained the private papers of Mr. Morton. The other contained the mailing lists and mail order system layout.

Frank placed the two parcels on the desk before his host. The latter chanced to open the larger package first. He carelessly ran over the lists and the accompanying literature.

"H'm," he said rather irritably, "I've little use for that monument of my fool-killer experiment!"

Frank was relieved--in fact, pleased, to observe Mr. Morton contemptuously sweep aside the litter before him and inspect the second package.

This interested him. He sorted out quite a lot of bills and receipts.

"Guess I'm a careless business man," he spoke at last. "That fire so discouraged me I just got out, bag and baggage. There's some good, collectible bills here. Now then, young man," he continued, facing squarely about on Frank, "don't tell me you came way down here from Greenville with that stuff just out of courtesy and kindness."

"I will tell you the whole story, if you have the time to listen to it,"

replied Frank.

"Certainly--fire away."

Frank recited his experience with the salvage from start to finish. He wound up with the words: "You can see, sir, very plainly that I have hopes of getting those lists. I have a little money, and I will be glad to buy them."

Mr. Morton studied Frank in a pleased, interested way.

"Young man," he said, "you have acted very honorably in coming to me the way you have. As to that mail order literature, cart it away. I don't want it. I might sell the lists, if I had the time--I haven't--so they are yours. And, look here, these bills--I'll give you half of what you collect on them."