“You're right. The man on the road with a good trade and a good salary has a pretty good thing of it.”
“Well, some men expect to strike it rich by silver stock. Do you know Al Bevins?”
“The sleigh-bell man? Yes, I know him well.”
“Has he told you about the silver stock?”
“No.”
“He has been investing in Deming's—”
“Oh, d—n Deming! He's a nuisance with his silver stock.”
“Yes, but he gets the boys in all the same. Henley has bought a lot in Providence on the strength of his investment, and Deacon Hall, of Wallingford, will buy out Wallace when his dividends come in. Bevins says it's better than sleigh-bells, and Al knows how to run a factory.”
“Still, some of the men at the factories are born idiots. You can't teach them anything. If the managers were compelled to make one trip a year they'd find out a good deal. Here's my ax trade. I've been cussed from one end of the trip to the other. My orders for October shipment were billed about January 1. And it's the same way year after year. I swear, I often wonder that I get any orders at all! They damn me in February, and yet they give me new orders in May. But it is sickening to hear the same story over and over, year after year.”
“What excuse do they offer at home?”