“Anyhow,” said Wally, “I rather fancy the thing myself. The things can’t be worse than they have been, and if they’re fresh every day, they’re bound to be better, and the tarts are a halfpenny less, and so’s the ginger-pop.”
“Hooroo!” said Cottle; “you can get half as much again for the same money. I wish they’d open to-day.”
After which, one by one they tailed off, leaving a general impression behind them that whoever else was in the secret, these nine young innocent lambs were not.
Matters had not advanced to this stage without considerable deliberation. Several committee meetings had been held, some of which, under Mr Stratton’s presidency, had been of a practical nature, others, without his controlling presence, had ended in dust. On the whole, however, the young merchant adventurers had exhibited a reasonable grasp of their responsibilities and an aptitude for dealing with the necessary details.
One point discussed was whether the shop should be open all day, or only at certain times. Mr Stratton was in favour of the latter. He urged that during the off hours between eleven and twelve, and in the afternoon between four and six, would be ample.
The committee argued, from personal experience, that there were other hours of the day when a fellow felt in the humour for a “blow out.” To this Mr Stratton replied, “Let him ‘blow out’ by all means, but not on the company’s premises. He could do his shopping during shop hours, and ‘blow out’ with his purchases at any hour of the day or night the School rules permitted. They couldn’t undertake to provide a banqueting hall for their customers.”
“But,” urged the committee, “if you have a shopman, why not get your money’s worth out of him?”
“Why waste our money on a shopman at all?” propounded Mr Stratton to his astounded fellow-directors. “Why not take turns behind the counter ourselves; say one of the Wheatfields and Cash one week, and Cottle and Ashby the next, and so on? The hours proposed were not school hours; and though the persons on duty might occasionally be done out of a game, still it would fall on all alike, and would be a little sacrifice for the common good.”
“But,” said Percy, whose hair was on end at this tremendous proposition, “suppose Wally—that is, I mean, wouldn’t it be necessary to count the tarts before each chap went on duty and see how many there were at the end?”
“It might with you and your lot,” retorted Wally, very red in the face. “It’d be best to have a weighing machine handy and charge you 8 pence a pound for every pound extra you weighed at the end of the day!”