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With Bridges Burned
by
“Oh, we mustn’t think about making a change.”
“I’ve handled more big jobs than any man of my age and experience on the road, and yet–I’m fired.” The husband sighed wearily. “I built that big pipe line in Portland; I sold those smelters in Anaconda, and the cyanide tanks for the Highland Girl. Yes, and a lot of other jobs, too. I know all about the smelter business, but that’s no sign I can sell electric belts or corn salve. We’re up against it, girlie.”
“Have people quit building smelters?”
“They sure have–during this panic. There’s nothing doing anywhere.”
The wife thought for a moment before saying, “The last time you were home you told me about some Western mining men who had gone to South Africa–“
“Sure! To the Rand! They’ve made good, too; they’re whopping big operators, now.”
“You said there was a large contract of some sort coming up in London.”
“Large! Well, rather! The Robinson-Ray job. It’s the biggest ever, in my line. They’re going to rebuild those plants the Boers destroyed. I heard all about it in Montana.”
“Well!” Mrs. Mitchell spoke with finality. “That’s the place for you. Get the firm to send you over there.”
“Um-m! I thought about that, but it scared me out. It’s too big. Why, it’s a three-million-dollar job. You see, we’ve never landed a large foreign contract in this country as yet.” Mitchell sat up suddenly. “But say! This panic might–” Then he relaxed. “Oh, what’s the use? If there were a chance the firm wouldn’t send me. Comer would go himself–he’d take the whole outfit over for a job like that. Besides, it’s too big a thing for our people; they couldn’t handle it.”
Mrs. Mitchell’s eyes were as round as buttons. “Three million dollars’ worth of steel in one contract! Do you think you could land it if you went?”
“It’s my line of work,” the young man replied, doubtfully. “I’ll bet I know more about cyanide tanks than any salesman in Europe, and if I had a decent price to work on–“
“Then it’s the chance we’ve been waiting for.”
The girl scrambled to her feet and, fetching a chair, began to talk earnestly, rapidly. She talked for a long time, until gradually the man’s gray despondency gave way to her own bright optimism. Nor was it idle theory alone that she advanced; Mitchell found that she knew almost as much about the steel business as he did, and when she had finished he arose and kissed her.
“You’ve put new heart into me, anyhow. If you’re game to do your share, why–I’ll try it out. But remember it may mean all we’ve got in the bank, and–” He looked at her darkly.
“It’s the biggest chance we’ll ever have,” she insisted. “It’s worth trying. Don’t let’s wait to get rich until we are old.”
When Mr. Comer returned from lunch he found his youngest salesman waiting for him, and inside of ten minutes he had learned what Mitchell had on his mind. With two words Comer blew out the gas.
“You’re crazy,” said he.
“Am I? It’s worth going after.”
“In the first place no big foreign job ever came to America–“
“I know all that. It’s time we got one.”
“In the second place Comer & Mathison are jobbers.”
“I’ll get a special price from Carnegie.”
“In the third place it would cost a barrel of money to send a man to England.”
Mitchell swallowed hard. “I’ll pay my own way.”
Mr. Comer regarded the speaker with genuine astonishment. “You’ll pay your way? Why, you haven’t got any money.”
“I’ve got a thousand dollars–or the wife has. It’s our nest-egg.”
“It would take five thousand to make the trip.”
“I’ll make it on one. Yes, and I’ll come back with that job. Don’t you see this panic makes the thing possible? Yes, and I’m the one man to turn the trick; for it’s right in my line. I’ll see the Carnegie people at Pittsburgh. If they quote the right price I’ll ask you for a letter, and that’s all you’ll have to do. Will you let me go?”