I think a man often does better work when he is spurred on by anxiety. I had seen More & Less's man in the store across the street, so I determined I would do my best at Bingham's and not get whipped out of the town. Mr. Bingham met me as if he wished I was somewhere else, but I was too eager to sell to care very much about his manner. I told him my story as well as I could, and insisted that if he needed anything in my line I could do him good.
“I don't need anything,” said he, “but what is all this talk of the M. H. & Co. revolver?”
“It is coming into prominence,” I said, “and Jim Merwin gave it a big boom in Cleveland the other day. McIntosh took him before the Police Board, and they say Merwin outdid Buffalo Bill. McIntosh says the Chief of Police took a Smith & Wesson, and Merwin a M. H. & Co., and each tried to shoot the other with empty shells, Jim grabbed the Chief, emptied his revolver of the shells and rammed the pistol in his ear until the Chief yelled for mercy. Merwin gave such a war dance that they had to call out the fire department to cool him down. He secured the city's order for an outfit for the police, and M. H. & Co. stock has gone up since then.”
“Do you sell them?”
“Yes, at factory prices.”
“Pho! All you men talk factory prices.”
“I mean factory prices.”
“Well,” said he, “I'm going to buy of Simmons after this; he beats the factories. His New England man—”
“His what?”
“His New England man. Didn't you know he had opened a Boston office and now drums New England?”
“I hadn't heard of that.”
“Oh, yes. St. Louis is going to run the country on hardware hereafter and on guns. Simmons' New England man says they do a big business there; dealers buy bills of $8.87 down. Their New York office isn't open yet, but it's coming; they want Sam Haines as manager, or J. B. Sargent. They do things up big down there.”
“How many M. & H. revolvers can I send you?”
“Don't want any now; just asked out of curiosity.”
This was discouraging, but I opened my price-book at A, and called his attention to every item in it, but to everything received the same answer, “Got it.” I began to get desperate.
“Look here,” said Bingham, “you seem to be excited, young man. I like to see a man work, but if a fellow don't want anything, he don't, and that's the end of it. I never bought a dollar from your house, and your prices are no better than others.”
But I wanted an order. Whether he needed goods or not was no concern of mine; I wanted an order and I was determined to get one if such a thing were possible. Finally I struck Flobert rifles. “Look here,” I said, “I have a special price on Flobert's target rifles—$2.10 by the case—but I will give you a cut even on that; I will make them $2, and now I want you to give me an order.”
“Two dollars,” he said, as if turning it over in his mind; “$2, eh? I've a mind to go and see Madley with you.”
“Who is Madley?”
“He's a clothing man, and chain lightning about offering gifts to purchasers. He has run cows, watches, pianos, and lager beer; maybe he'd take hold of rifles.”
“Very well,” said I, “let's us go see him. What price shall I quote him?”
“You needn't do any quoting; I'll make prices and you expatiate on the goods.”
We started down the street to Madley's, and I was introduced to the gentleman, a fussy, garrulous little man with an extremely red face. Bingham opened the ball, and I never listened to more talented drumming than he did that morning.
“Chris,” said he, “this young man is offering target rifles at a cut price that knocks anything ever known. The boys have been buying them very freely of late, and they are popular. I fancied they might hit you as a gift with a boy's suit. If you can handle them I don't want any profit, but am getting other goods from him, and you can ship with my goods.”
“What are they worth?”
“Well, you have as much of an idea of the worth of a rifle as any one else has; suppose you were going to buy one for your boy, what would you expect to pay?”
“I don't know anything about them.”
“Oh, you've got some idea and I want to get it, for you will not be very different from the average man in your estimate of cost.”
“Oh, d—-n it, say $10; but I can't handle any such goods.”
“We don't ask you to at $10. But that is about the average idea regarding price. Now, Chris, this man's price is $3.12.”
It struck me this was getting mighty close to “cost!”
“Eh, $3.12! How the devil can they make it at that?”
“Oh, they make it. How they do it is none of our concern. It would make you a very popular gift and the boys would go wild over it.”
Madley turned to me. “Is that your bottom price?”
“I gave Mr. Bingham my very best figures.”
“How many have you got?”
“Any amount you want.”
He called two of his young men, and after a conference with them came up to Bingham and said: “Bingham, I can't afford to let you make a profit on these rifles. You wouldn't come up here if you were not making something. The idea is a good one, and you may send your boy up and get the best suit of clothes I've got, but I'm going to figure on rifles before I order.”
“All right, Chris, go in.” He turned on his heel to go out, and I followed. When we were on the sidewalk he said: “I don't give it up yet, but I can play bluff as well as he can.”
“You asked too much advance, I am afraid.”
“Oh, I know him. I'll go for him by and by.”
And he did. I called in the afternoon and took his order for 100 rifles, and he showed me a written order for them from Madley at $2.62. To these he added several other items, making a very nice bill. I have always noticed that, however much a man did not want any goods, the moment you get him started there is but little difficulty in then getting his order for some of the very things he told you he was not needing.
During this time I had no fear of the other salesman. My prices were down so low I cared for no one, but I concluded I would go back to Mr. Shull's, and see if anything was left for me there. He happened to be at work at the shelves, which is a place I like to find a man at, and I explained that I was in early in the day but saw he was engaged.
“Yes,” said he, “I had a gun man here all forenoon. He sold me all I needed in your line. He says bull-dogs are going up.”
“I had not heard of it.”
“What are you selling at?”
What should I say? If he had bought I didn't care to quote a special price, and I did not want to name a high price, for that might give him a bad impression of the house in the future.
It is a difficult place in which a salesman finds himself, this quoting prices to a man who has just bought. The temptation is always to name a very low rate, perhaps even to go below your lowest selling price, for the purpose of making the man feel that you would have been a better man to buy from, but this is a two-edged sword, and I have not cared to handle it. I concluded it would pay here to be frank.
“It is possible there is some advance of which I don't know,” I said, “but my price has been $2.75 to $2.85, according to quantity.”
“That's what I bought at.”
I opened up on rifles, found him entirely out, and showed him my order from Bingham for 100.
“What in Sam Hill is he going to do with 100?”
I did not enlighten him. I said: “Oh, every lad buys a target rifle nowadays.”
“What price do you get?”
“Two dollars and ten cents by the case.”
“Case? How many's a case?”
“Thirty-six.”
“I don't want any case. If you want to send me a dozen at that you may.”
I wanted to, and got his order for another item or two, and left him, feeling I had done pretty well.
This showing one merchant the order you have taken from his neighbor is one of the easiest things in the world to do, but it is not always a trump card. Still, it has a powerful influence in a majority of cases. The best buyer who lives has times of doubting if his judgment is infallible, and he is glad to brace it up by comparing with the judgment of others. This he is able to do through having salesmen tell of the orders given by other buyers, and be he never so smart, he very often falls into their traps.
If you are a buyer you are, possibly, looking at a Russell knife, listening to Booth's eloquent description of the way they are hand forged, elegantly ground, and how Oakman inspects every blade and then wraps it up carefully in Ella Wheeler Wilcox's last poem. The pattern you have in your hand pleases you, but you wonder how others will look at it. The question is not, “Do I like it?” but, “Will it sell?” You are inclined to think it will, but just then your eye falls on scores of patterns on your shelves that you thought would go like hot cakes, but they have disappointed you. Perhaps, after all, your best way is to wait; but just then Booth opens his little book and shows you where Bartlett ordered 100 gross; Buhl, 50 gross; Ducharme, 25 gross, and Blossom, 10 gross (but he puts his thumb over this last hastily), and you tell him to send you a few. As I said before, I believe the best buyer is more or less influenced by being told what others are doing, and with the smaller trade it is constantly used to sway their decision.
Is it right?
I do not know. I am not writing of the ethics of business. I know that traveling men use the order taken from one buyer to influence another, and that it often has great influence, although I think the buyer is not wise who acts upon such information. Even when he is told the strict truth regarding the orders given by others, he ought to know his own stock and trade so well that he could depend upon his own judgment. But most of us like to lean on some one else, and when we are hesitating and learn that buy as they did.
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