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“‘Well, come and see for yourself,’ said he. ‘Here, look at this stuff,’ and he threw out three or four numbers of boys’ goods. ‘That’s the punkest plunder,’ said he, ‘that I ever had in my house.’

“I at once saw that the goods he showed me were the other fellow’s, but I kept quiet for a while. ‘Look at your bill,’ said I. ‘There must be some mistake about this.’ He turned to the bill from my house and he couldn’t find the stock numbers. ‘Well, that’s funny,’ said he. ‘Not at all,’ I replied. ‘Look at the other man’s bill and see if you don’t find them.’ “Well, sir, when he saw that the goods he was kicking about had come from my competitor’s house, he swore like a trooper and said to me, ‘Well, I will simply countermand this order I have given and I’ll go right up with you and buy yours.’

“‘No, I guess not,’ said I. ‘When I came in this morning you condemned me without giving me a full hearing and you weren’t very nice about it, either, so I’ve just placed my line with your neighbor. I will show you the order I have just taken from him,’ said I, handing over my order book.”

“Well, that must have made you feel good,” spoke up the shoeman. “I had pretty much the same sort of an experience this very season down south here. I had been calling on a fair-sized merchant in the town for a couple of years. The first time I went to his town I sold him a handful. The next time I sold him another handful. The third time I called on him he didn’t give me any more business. I had just about marked him down for a piker. You know how we all love those pikers, anyway. These fellows who buy a little from you and a little from the other fellow–in fact, a little from every good line that comes around–just to keep the other merchants in the town from getting the line and not giving enough to any one man to justify him in taking care of the account or caring anything about it. He was one of those fellows who would cut off his nose and his ears and burn his eyes out just to spite his face.

“This trip, as usual, I sold him his little jag. I didn’t say anything to him, but thought it was high time I was going out and looking up another customer. I finally found another man who gave me a decent bill–between seven and eight hundred dollars–and he promised me that he would handle my line right along if the stuff turned out all O.K. He said he wasn’t the biggest man in the town at that time but that his business was growing steadily and that he had just sold a farm and was going to put more money into the business and enlarge the store. He struck me as being the man in the town for me.

“My piker friend had seen me walking over to the sample room with this other man. When I dropped around, after packing up, to say good-bye, he said to me, ‘I saw you going over to your sample room with this man down street here. I suppose, of course, you didn’t sell him anything?’

“‘To be sure I did,’ said I. ‘Why, why shouldn’t I? You haven’t been giving me enough to pay my expenses in coming to the town, much less to leave any profit for me.’ “‘Well, if you can’t sell me exclusively, you can’t sell me at all,’ said he, rearing back.

“‘All right,’ said I. ‘I won’t sell you at all if that’s the case. Here’s your order. Do with it what you please. In fact, I won’t even grant you that privilege. I myself shall call it off. Here goes.’ And with this I tore up his order.”