“This,” continued Mr. Fogden, whose heart was evidently reached by French’s comments, “is what we call the part store. Here are the parts of all our machines arranged in sets. Here, for example, are small parts. Those bins carry lock rods for card indexes, those ball-bearing rollers for file cases, those rings for loose-leaf books, and so on. Over there you get the wooden parts—panels for vertical file cabinets, multiple bookcases, parts of desks and chairs. We carry a definite stock of each part, and every time it drops to a definite number an order automatically goes to the works department for a new lot to be made.”
“Good system.”
“We have to do it or we should get wrong. I’ll show you now the erecting shop. This way.”
They passed into a large room where a score or more men were busily engaged in putting together machines of every type and kind. But they did not halt there long. After a general look round Mr. Fogden led the way across the shop and through another door.
“This,” he said, “is our completed-articles store. Here we keep our products ready for immediate despatch. We stock a certain number of each class, and the same arrangement holds good with regard to the parts. Directly a number falls to the minimum, an order automatically goes to the assembly department to build so many new pieces. That keeps our stock right. Of course, an order for a large number of pieces has to be dealt with specially. For example, we always keep a minimum of twelve Number One duplicators complete and ready to go out, and that enables us to supply incidental orders without delay. But when an order for fifty comes in, as we had yesterday from the Argentine, we have to manufacture specially.”
French murmured appreciatively.
“With regard to the Number Three duplicators,” went on Mr. Fogden, pointing to the machines in question, “we always keep a minimum of three in stock. They are not in such demand as the Number Ones. Now let me see.” He compared the order with the bin or stock card. “Only two of these have gone out since the one you are interested in. I dare say the men will remember yours.” He referred again to the order. “Packed by John Puddicoombe. . . . Here, Puddicoombe. A moment.”
An elderly man approached.
“Do you happen to remember packing a duplicator of this type on fifteenth of August last? It was a Monday and there’s the docket.”
The man scratched his head. “I don’t know as I do, sir,” he answered, slowly. “You see, I pack that many and they’re all the same. But I packed it, all right, if I signed for it.”