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"Tell me about your wife," said the Youngish Girl a little wistfully. Around the Traveling Salesman's generous mouth the loud laugh flickered down to a schoolboy's bashful grin. "My wife?" he repeated. "Tell you about my wife? Why, there isn't much to tell. She's little. And young. And was a school-teacher. And I married her four years ago."
The careful manner in which he avoided contact with crew or gear would have made Barry grin under any other circumstances; but now near disaster impended, simply on account of the irrepressible salesman's voracious appetite for knowledge. As he approached the poop ladder, Little grimaced up at the skipper and shrugged his shoulders resignedly in anticipation of the storm.
They went upstairs to find him lying in state upon a big sofa placed near a window, and his joy at the sight of them was a genuine, human thing. In fact, he had pondered a good deal in secret on the possibility of these swell people thinking he had "more than his share of gall" to expect them to remember him after he passed on his junior assistant salesman's way.
It had already taken a definite shape, even before the echoes of the salesman's voice had died upon my ears! With the clink of his hammer my mind was made up. The purpose was formed; it was only the plan that remained indefinite. I had resolved to outrage the laws to become thief or robber, whichever it might please circumstances to make me. I had resolved to steal my betrothed!
Said a salesman from New York talked him into it, and he was wondering how he was going to get rid of them. Thought he'd been stocked up with more than he could sell, all through the salesman's slick tongue. I told him not to worry, that the boys would be standing in line before long and would clean him out of stock. He seemed to think I was kidding him, but he brightened up just the same."
McChesney opened a desk drawer, took out a leather-covered pocket notebook, and handed it to Buck. A tiny smile quivered about her lips. Buck took it, mystified. "Your last diary?" "Something much more important. I call it 'The Salesman's Who's Who. Read it as you ought your Bible." "But what?" Buck turned the pages wonderingly. He glanced at a paragraph, frowned, read it aloud, slowly.
She sat up very straight now and narrowed her eyes just a trifle stubbornly toward the Traveling Salesman's very visible astonishment. "And what's more," she continued, clicking at her watch-case again "and what's more, I'm on my way now to meet the consequences of said indiscreet letter." "Alone?" gasped the Traveling Salesman.
Claims to have stock of $2,200, and to owe not to exceed $600. Is doing fair business, but his personal expenses are rather high, and it is said he is close run for ready means. Thought safe for small amounts, but bill should not be allowed to lapse. "Now this and my salesman's report don't tally very closely. Here is another case.
The best customer on my order book came to me because I once had a chance to do a little crooked work, but didn't. I had a customer who had been a loyal one for many years. He would not even look at another salesman's goods and you know that it is a whole lot of satisfaction to get into a town and walk into a door where you know you are "solid."
Immediately out came drawers and down came boxes, and very soon the small counter was littered with piles of raiment variously gaudy which Spike viewed and disparaged with such knowing judgment that the salesman's respect proportionately grew, and Mr. Ravenslee, lounging in the background, was forgotten quite, the while they chaffered after this manner: Salesman.
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