“But we wouldn’t make nearly so much, would we?”
“Not on one sale, but the point is that you can sell three cheap cars to one high-priced one, and the more cars we can sell the more tires we can sell, and the more gasoline and oil and everything else—including repairs! Why the dickens I didn’t think of taking an agency I don’t see!”
“There’s a fellow right over here on Linden Street who is an agent,” said Willard, “but I don’t believe he does much.”
“Gooch?” Jimmy shrugged his shoulders expressively. “He hasn’t enough life in him to sell a gold dollar for fifty cents! Besides, look at the car he handles; nobody wants a Glynn car nowadays; it’s too heavy. If we can get the agency for a car like the Day-Morton or Rugby, a car that costs about six hundred for the runabout and nine or ten hundred for a five-passenger touring model, we can sell three or four a year now and a lot more later.”
CHAPTER XXVI
THE NEW MOTOR TRUCK
On Thursday the new motor truck arrived. Jimmy’s praise of it had not been a whit too enthusiastic. To look at, it was a thing of beauty indeed, at least from the point of view of its new owners, and as for traveling—well, Tom had to own by the time they had completed a triumphal journey up Main Street to the garage that, for power and smoothness, it could run circles around The Ark! Tom viewed the large wheels with solid tires doubtfully, but later he discovered the wisdom of Jimmy’s choice, for there were no blow-outs to bother with. Naturally the car didn’t glide quite as smoothly over the city cobblestones as would a vehicle with pneumatic tires, but then one didn’t use the truck for pleasure riding. After it was in the garage Jimmy took up the floor-boards and exhibited and explained the engine, which was tucked away under the front of the car. The square radiator, which breasted the dash, held the maker’s name in brass letters and Tom and Willard howled with anguish when Jimmy suggested removing it to save the trouble of keeping it polished. The body was large enough to hold eight trunks without piling them, while, if one cared to, one could probably get on at least twenty. The dark green and pale yellow looked very well together, and the little black leather top over the seat glistened bravely. They were all delighted with it, and, although Jimmy was aching to go over engine and wiring to make certain that all was as it should be, Tom and Willard insisted on trying it out again; which explains why a brand new green and yellow express wagon, without a horse to draw it, ran around Audelsville for three-quarters of an hour that Thursday evening, creating much interest in beholders!
Yes, that was certainly a busy week; so busy, in fact, that Tom got out to football practice but two afternoons, Wednesday and Friday. On Wednesday George Connors berated him soundly, Tom taking the scolding meekly enough, since he knew he deserved it. But on Friday the captain had even more to say, and Tom, while acknowledging to himself that George Connors had plenty of excuse for complaint, was at last goaded to anger.
“That will be about all, Connors,” he said at last. “I’m sorry I haven’t been out to practice more, but I’ve been busy——”