CHAPTER XI
FRANK AS AN AGENT
Frank remained with Mr. Philip Vincent the best part of half an hour, and then excused himself, for he realized that the book publisher’s time was valuable. After the interview he was introduced to a clerk, who gave him his samples with the case, and also the pamphlet on selling, order blanks, and circulars advertising the books. The clerk also went over the volumes with our hero, pointing out the good points and the best illustrations.
“Don’t be discouraged if you don’t get an order the first day you are out,” said the clerk, on parting. “One of our best agents was out two days before he received an order.”
“I’ll give it a week’s trial and stick to it like a bulldog to a man’s leg,” answered Frank, and this raised a laugh, in which he joined.
Now he was in New York, Frank could not resist the temptation to look around a little. Saying he would call for his sample case later, he left Mr. Vincent’s store and strolled up Nassau Street until he reached City Hall Park, and crossing the Park back of the post office, came out on Broadway.
“New York is certainly a busy place,” was his mental comment, as he gazed at the crowds of people, and the broad highway filled with trucks and surface cars. “It’s a regular bee-hive for business.”
Having ample time to spare, he determined to ride uptown as far as Forty-second Street and take a look at the shops and the Grand Central Depot.
He was soon on the car, and took a seat near the front door. Scarcely had he got settled when the door opened and a tall, slab-sided individual, on whose calculating features “Yankee” was plainly written, stepped into the car.
“Extry fine day this is,” he remarked to Frank.
“It certainly is,” was our hero’s polite reply.