Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Mark Tidd in Business, Page 3

Clarence Budington Kelland


  CHAPTER III

  "What'll we auction off?" I asked Mark.

  "That," says he, "is what we've g-got to find out."

  "Let's auction everything," says Binney.

  Mark just looked at him. It was enough. You could see how disgusted hewas, and I can tell you Binney kept pretty quiet after that.

  "We'll auction old stuff," says Mark. "There's l-l-lots of things herenobody could sell any other way. Whatever we get out of them 'll beclear gain."

  So we went to rummaging, and the mess of things we found was enough tomake you blink. We took all the rest of the day for that. Next morningMark had us clean tables up in front. About eleven o'clock we got thatpart pretty well done.

  "Now," says Mark, "we got to advertise."

  "How?" says I. "We hain't got money to spend in the paper, and,besides, it don't come out till the auction's over."

  "L-lots of ways," says Mark. "Binney, can you get your pa's horse?"

  "I guess so," says Binney.

  "And the spring wagon?"

  "Sure."

  "All right, then. Now come on."

  He led us to the storeroom back of the Bazar and set us to work makinga frame. This didn't take long. The frame was shaped like a tent. Whenit was done we tacked some white cloth on the sides so it was tight andsmooth, and Mark got the lampblack and the brush and began to paintsigns on it. He could make letters as good as a regular sign-painter,too, and that fast you wouldn't believe it. The same sign was on bothsides of the tent. It said:

  GRAND AUCTION SALE

  Anything You Want For What You Want To Pay For It

  AT

  SMALLEY'S BAZAR

  Monday, September 30

  MARK TIDD, Auctioneer

  "Now," says Mark, "f-fetch down your horse and wagon, Binney. We'll setthis sign on the wagon. You can drive, and Tallow 'll sit inside andbang on this drum."

  "Where'll we go?"

  "Out in the c-country this afternoon. To-morrow you'll ride aroundtown."

  As soon as they had their dinner they started off, and Mark and I wereleft in the store.

  "F-first thing's to fix the windows," says he.

  We picked out the showiest things and put them where folks could seethem--and there was everything from a patent churn to a toy duck thatwaggled its head. One window was like that--just everything put in sofolks could get an idea what was going to be sold. The other windowMark fixed up like a town. He used a lot of toys to do it, but we had alot to do it with. When we were through it was a regular sight, andI'll bet nobody in Wicksville ever saw anything like it before. Therewere streets and houses and horses and wagons driving along, and atrain coming into the depot, and a band playing in the square, and afire-engine going to a fire that Mark fixed in a house with yellowpaper for flames. It looked pretty real. There were churches andstores, and folks shopping, and kids playing. It was pretty fine.

  Next Mark made some more signs--one great big one to stretch across thefront of the store, and others on stiff paper to tack upon fencesaround town. We were to do that after we closed up at night.

  All this time we didn't see a thing of Jehoshaphat P. Skip, but wefound out he'd gone to the city about some of his stock that was slowcoming. We were just as glad, because he'd be more surprised thananybody when he saw what we were up to.

  "Bet Mr. Skip 'll most strangle all the way down his neck," I says,"when he sees what's goin' on."

  Mark's little eyes got bright and twinkly, but he didn't say a word.

  Next day was Friday, and we spent that arranging stock. Mark had tablesmoved to the middle of the store, and we covered them with all sorts ofthings. This wasn't for the auction, but for regular business. Thefirst table was a five-cent one, the next was a ten-cent one, and soon. You didn't have to ask the price of a thing. That made it handy forus and for customers.

  "L-lots of folks'll buy things they hain't got any use for," says Mark,"just because they look cheap."

  "Shouldn't think so," says I.

  "Wait," says he. "Let 'em rummage around and see things all markedplain. Right off they'll b-begin wantin' things. And they'll buy. Yousee."

  And I did see, Saturday. Those signs and windows got folks all riled upwith curiosity, and they began droppin' in to see what kind of a messwe were making of it. Everybody acted like they thought it was a bigjoke for Mark and us to be keeping store, but we didn't care. Mark saidthat was a good thing, because good-natured folks buy more than folksthat don't think they've got something to laugh at.

  We had more folks in the store that day than we ever had before, Ibelieve, unless maybe nights before Christmas. We let them joke us allthey wanted and didn't try to sell them things. What we wanted them todo was walk around and sell things to themselves. That was Mark's idea.You haven't any idea how people like to poke around by themselves andstick their noses into things. They right down enjoy it. The more theypoked the more they bought. It kept Mark and me busy, and we wished alot of times that Binney and Tallow were there to help us. But we didthe best we could, and they were there after supper, of course. We keptopen till ten o'clock, and anybody'd have thought we were running afree show to see how the place was jammed.

  Mark got the idea of setting a phonograph going, and we had music allthe while.

  Along about nine o'clock we saw Mr. Long Neck come pussy-footing in. Hestood in the door a minute and scowled and then walked all around slow,and slinking, to see what we were doing and how we were doing it. Marksaid to let on we didn't know him, and then went up to him like hethought he was a customer, and says:

  "Anythin' s-s-special you was lookin' for, sir?"

  Mr. Skip was like to have swelled up so he cracked his long neck rightthere, and the way he woggled his nose back and forth was enough tohave put it out of joint.

  "You're a-havin' that auction Monday just to interfere with my GrandOpenin'," he says, savage-like.

  "Was you havin' a Grand Openin', Monday?" asks Mark, innocent as couldbe.

  "You know I be," says Mr. Skip.

  "N-now hain't that too bad!" says Mark, still looking as serious as awall-eyed pike. "I hope it won't draw away from your crowd any."

  "You better mark my word, young feller," says Mr. Long Neck, "and putit off. I won't have no interferin' with my plans."

  "Um!" says Mark.

  "And these here five-and-ten-cent tables," says Mr. Skip. "You got todo away with 'em."

  "We're doin' away with 'em now," says Mark, with just the beginning ofa grin, and he pointed at the tables that were surrounded by folks likeflies on a lump of sugar. "Don't look like there'd be much l-left, doesit?"

  "You're a young smart Alec," says Mr. Skip, and then he hurried outlike he was afraid he'd burn up if he stayed.

  Mark turned and winked at me.

  Everybody was interested in the auction and we were answering questionsabout it all day. You could see folks picking out things they figuredon bidding for and making memorandums of them, and that pleased us agood deal and made me feel a whole heap better about our chances ofmaking a showing against Mr. Skip.

  When everybody was gone we counted the money we had taken in, and itwas a hundred and sixty-two dollars and ninety-five cents. Once I heardpa say a hundred and forty-five was the biggest day he ever had. I tellyou we were tickled. And the best of it was everything we sold was atregular prices. Yes, sir. We didn't reduce a cent.

  Before we left the store I wrote mother a long letter and told herabout it all and bragged considerable, and let on I guessed we weregoing to get as rich as Mark Tidd's father had out of theturbine-engine he invented. Then we all signed it and sent it off. Iwas pretty proud, but when you come to think of it, there wasn'tanything for _me_ to be very stuck up about. Mark was the fellow whohad a right to think he was some pumpkins, but he didn't act like he'ddone anything out of the ordi
nary. That was the way with him. If he wasto be elected President of the United States to-morrow, it wouldn'teven make him blink. He'd just go ahead and _be_ President like he wasused to it all his life. Sometimes it made me mad to see how cool hetook things. But he says you can think a lot better when you'recalm-like than you can when you're all het up and flabbergasted. Iguess he's right about it, too.