“Yes, Frank, that one order will cover the cost of all the circularizing we have done to date. Hello! hello! hello!”
In three different crescendo tones Markham tallied off three letters which Frank opened next in turn, and in each instance with cash results—two silver dimes and thirty cents in postage stamps.
When the entire mail was opened, Frank had a little heap at his elbow representing six dollars and eighty cents, three dollars of which was to pay for two rings.
“Seven orders for your puzzle, Markham,” announced Frank, “besides what goes in the big order. Only one apple corer ordered. I’m afraid my prized invention is a frost.”
“Not at all,” dissented Markham. “Look here, it’s plain from the letter you got this morning that the Riverton hardware man had already used at least some of the names in the mail order lists. If I were you, Frank, in any new printed matter you get out I would refer to your apple corer as a decided improvement on the old one. I think, even, I would illustrate these improvements.”
“An excellent idea, Markham,” declared Frank. “Further, I don’t know but it would be a good thing to offer one of the new corers, free on return of an old one, charging only the postage.”
“Oh, we’re learning,” declared Markham, buoyantly. “This thing is a decided go.”
Frank was immersed in business during the rest of that week. Markham proved an energetic and reliable assistant. There were circulars to send out, orders to fill, letters to write.
Saturday night they had to work till eleven o’clock to clean up their desks. Frank was rushing the catalogue copy. Mrs. Haven was busy making new drawings, which had to be sent to the city to be photo-engraved. Orders, too, were sent daily to the city supply houses.
Up at the novelty factory they were filling Frank’s first big order for a thousand of the wire puzzles and a thousand of the new apple corers.