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Burned Bridges

Page 105

"You should know." Thompson could not help a shade of doubt in his tone.

"But I must say I could approach a man with a proposition to sell him an

article with more confidence if I knew that article inside and out, top

and bottom. If I really knew a thing was good, and why, I could sell

it, I believe."

"He has the right hunch, Dad."

Thompson had not heard young Henderson come in. He saw him now a step

behind his chair, garbed in overalls that bore every sign of intimate

contact with machinery.

He nodded to Thompson and continued to address his father.

"It's true. Take two men of equal selling force. On the year's business

the one who can drive mechanical superiority home because he knows

wherein it lies will show the biggest sales, and the most satisfied

customers. I believe six months' shop work would just about double the

efficiency of half our sales staff."

John P. gazed good-naturedly at his son.

"I know, Fred," he drawled. "I've heard those sentiments before. There's

some truth in it, of course. But Simons and Sam Eppel and Monk White are

products of my method. You cannot deny their efficiency in sales.

What's the idea, anyway?"

Young Henderson grinned.

"The fact is," he said, "since I listened in on this conversation I have

come to the conclusion that you've good material here. I need a helper.

He'll get a thorough grounding. Whenever you and he decide that he has

absorbed sufficient mechanics he can join the sales end. I'd like to

train one man for you, properly."

"Well," John P. remarked judicially, "I can't waste the whole morning

discussing methods of training salesmen in the way they should go. I've

made Mr. Thompson a proposition. What do you say?"

He turned abruptly on Thompson.

"Or," young Henderson cut in. "You have the counter proposition of an

indefinite mechanical grind in my department--which is largely

experimental. If you take to it at all I guarantee that in six months

you will know more about the internal combustion motor and automobile

design in general than any two salesmen on my father's staff. And that,"

he added, with a boyish grimace at his father, "is saying a lot."

It seemed to Thompson that both men regarded him with a considerable

expectancy. It perplexed him, that embarrassment of opportunity. He was

a little dazed at the double chance. Here was Opportunity clutching him

by the coat collar. He had nothing but impulse, and perhaps a natural

craving for positive knowledge, to guide his choice. He wasted few

seconds, however, in deciding. Among other things, he had outgrown

vacillation.

"It is just as I said," he addressed Henderson senior. "I'd feel more

competent to sell cars if I knew them. I'd rather start in the shop."

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