“You must retail at wholesale prices, too. You can buy about as close as they do, and you can do retail business as cheaply as they can.”
“Yes, but don't you see, no matter what our prices are they are retail prices, and for the same reason their's are wholesale; the idiotic public loves to be fooled, and will fool itself if no one else takes the job. What are cartridges worth?”
“Two dollars and ten cents per 1,000 for 22s.”
“Why, I can buy here in town for that!”
“I presume you can; we make no money on cartridges; neither do the jobbers here or anywhere else.”
“Well, if you can't beat the houses here, how do you expect to sell goods?”
“Oh, cartridges are but one item in a very long list, and, profit or no profit, people must have them.”
I always expect a retailer to tell me that I must beat his home jobber, or he will not buy of me. But I know that this is not often true. He will not buy of the home jobbers at the same price, for he feels that he is building up his competitor. I have seen a great many jobbers who had spent time and money trying to get control of all the trade in their own city, but I never saw one who did not finally give up in disgust. It is not human nature to be willing to help build up a man who is in any way your competitor, and often you would rather pay a trifle more elsewhere than buy of him. This may not be “business,” but it is human nature, and there are many places where the latter is by far the stronger.
I undid my sample roll and showed my revolver samples to Mr. R. Almost every revolver reminded him of something, and I listened to his stories with the interest of a man who wanted an order.
“There is no trade in the world so mean as this,” said he. “People come in here for a revolver, and I am almost sure they mean mischief with it. What am I to do? My refusal to sell one will not prevent their getting it, yet I hate to sell to them. Of course a large majority of those I sell are sold to people whom I know, and I know they buy them for proper use. But a woman will slip in here and slyly ask for a revolver, and I am wondering if she is going to commit murder or suicide. Many a time a man looks so woe begone as he buys a pistol that I make some excuse to keep him from loading it here for fear he will blow out his brains right in the store.”