Читать книгу The Counterfeit Mystery - Norvin Pallas - Страница 7

CHAPTER 4

AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY

At a quarter to nine Ted was waiting in front of the new office. He thought it would make a little better impression to arrive ahead of time the first day, but he had to wait just fifteen minutes, for Mr. Woodring arrived precisely on time.

“Good morning, Ted,” he said briskly.

“Good morning, Mr. Woodring,” Ted responded, but his new boss had already turned away and was unlocking the door. It was quite a small office and at the moment a desk, a chair, a wastebasket, and an empty coat rack were the only furnishings.

“The phone will be in soon, and I’ve already given the number to some interested prospects, so there may be some calls.”

“What shall I tell anyone who calls?” Ted questioned.

“Well, in the first place, it will probably be people who will want an appointment with me. I have my appointment book here.” Mr. Woodring drew it from his brief case and laid it out flat on the desk. “Now you can see that on certain mornings and afternoons I’ll be out of town and won’t be available for local appointments. I try to avoid being absent for a whole day at a time if I can. If the caller asks for an appointment, you can look at my schedule and see when I’ll be available, and make an appointment for me.”

“What if they only want some information?” asked Ted.

“Then give it to them, of course, if you can. Don’t try to answer if you aren’t sure, but just tell them they’ll have to get in touch with me. Still, I’d much rather have you try to steer them into making an appointment. That will give me an opportunity to outline my whole proposition to them and perhaps cement the deal.”

“But if all they want is information, I’m not sure I know enough about this to tell them,” Ted objected.

“There isn’t a whole lot to tell. You’re familiar in a general way with how the stamp plan works, aren’t you?” Ted nodded. “I’ve got samples of my supplies available for anyone who wants them, and I’ll put a few of each in the desk. But don’t try to answer any questions about money, or anything like that. It would be too complicated, and I’d have to go into it myself.”

“Then all you want me to do is answer the phone?” asked Ted, disappointed. He didn’t think there would be very many calls, at least not today, and he saw a long, empty day stretching out ahead of him.

“There’s one other thing,” Mr. Woodring suggested. “You may get an express shipment this morning. I had it addressed to the hotel, since I didn’t know just where I would be opening an office, but I left word there to have it transferred over here. The shipment consists of premiums which we are offering for stamps when they are redeemed. You can open the packages, and then arrange a little display in front of the window. That may arouse the curiosity of passers-by, and if they come in and ask a few questions about the stamps, that will be all to the good. I’ve got some posters here, too, which you can put into the window, but don’t put them up until the shipment arrives. There wouldn’t be any point in having people come in before we’ve got something to show them. The posters will tell people what’s going on. I don’t believe it will be worth while to put any lettering on the door or window for the few weeks we’ll be here. Everything clear?”

“Yes, I think so,” Ted agreed. It surely didn’t sound very complicated.

“Fine. I’m leaving now, and I’ll be back again at three o’clock.”

He picked up his brief case, and with an abrupt nod of his head left the office.

Being alone in a business office would have given Ted a feeling of being in charge of things, except that there wasn’t very much to take charge of. There wasn’t even a typewriter, and all the drawers of the desk except the top one were empty, as he discovered after a quick investigation. Ted wondered what he ought to do. The place didn’t look very presentable and could very well use a sweeping out. In a back closet Ted found a broom and dustpan, among other odds and ends, and went to work, raising a little cloud of dust. When that was finished, he dusted off the desk and chair and returned the utensils to the closet. The window was perfectly clean and bright, and so there seemed nothing more for him to do.

He hadn’t brought a book or magazine with him and considered ducking out for a minute to pick up something to read from the corner drugstore, but decided against it. If someone came in and found him reading, it would look as though they didn’t have very much business—which, alas, was the truth.

No, the best thing to do was to look busy, and he decided he could begin by looking through the samples Mr. Woodring had left. This would at least make him more familiar with their line, and perhaps he could answer questions more intelligently. He was about to start when the telephone man arrived, and for half an hour there was too much interference to allow him to settle back in his chair.

“That’ll do it,” the installation man finally announced, and Ted thanked him. At least having a telephone offered the possibility of something doing.

More dust had arisen in the process, and Ted swept out the office once more. Then he settled back to look over his material. There were a number of empty stamp books on hand—but no stamps. Apparently Mr. Woodring hadn’t wanted to leave any of these lying around. If anyone wanted to know what the stamps looked like, he could find out from the large illustrated posters which were later going to be placed in the window. They showed an enlarged stamp, of the same design Ted had seen the day before, except that the picture looked even more attractive. The details stood out more vividly than they did when the illustration was reduced to less than the size of a postage stamp.

The catalogue showing the premiums to be earned was next to receive Ted’s attention. He ran through it briefly, admiring some of the items shown, and then was distracted by the arrival of an express truck pulling up in front.

There were about a dozen parcels altogether, which was more than Ted had expected, and he helped the expressman carry them in. The largest could be nothing except a bicycle, but Ted had no idea what the others were, and looked forward to opening the packages. After he had signed for the delivery, and the expressman had left, Ted used his pocketknife to cut the stout cords and rip carefully through the wrappings.

He unveiled the bicycle first, and was agreeably surprised. He had seen it pictured in the catalogue, but pictures often look more beautiful than the real thing. This bicycle looked just as fine as the picture, which was saying something. Any boy, including Ted himself if he had been younger, would have been proud and delighted with it.

He began to open the other packages. There was a beautiful doll, elaborately dressed, which would certainly have warmed the heart of any small girl. And there was a portable radio—just the thing for picnics—and a number of household utensils. Whatever reservations Ted had about the stamp plan, he had to admit there was nothing shoddy about these premiums. It was all first-class stuff.

All the wrappings lying on the floor made a pile too large to be fitted in the wastebasket, and Ted carried the trash out the back door and deposited it in a can. Then he was ready to organize his display. The smaller items could be placed in the window, and he arranged them as tastefully as he could. The bicycle, of course, was too large for that, but Ted stood it just behind the window display, where he knew it would be clearly visible from the street. And the posters—Ted found a roll of sticky tape and hung one of them in the window. The other he decided to hang on the office wall, where it would be readily seen by persons coming into the office.

Finally Ted had to sweep out the office for the third time, thinking meanwhile he might end up by joining the janitors’ union. Before he had returned the broom to the closet again, the telephone rang. The caller did not offer to give his name, and refused to make an appointment, although Ted suggested it as strongly as he felt he could. Instead, the man left a number where Mr. Woodring could reach him, and hung up.

Then a few of Ted’s friends happened by, saw him there, and dropped in to see what the score was. They didn’t stay very long, however, and Ted didn’t encourage them to hang around. They inquired a little about the stamp plan, looked over the premiums, then suddenly remembered it was almost time for lunch.

“Don’t make any dates for a week from Saturday night, Ted,” Cliff Corby called over his shoulder as they left.

“Why not? What’s coming off?”

“Don’t know yet. Remember when we took the girls roller skating a couple of weeks ago they said they were planning something in return? They won’t tell us what it is.”

Ted was mildly curious, and glad that there would be another get-together soon. He suddenly realized the summer was going fast, and there wasn’t much time before the fall college season set in. He wondered if he could get Nancy included in the affair. He felt he ought to do something to help her get acquainted in Forestdale, but he didn’t know just how he could work it, as long as the girls were planning the party.

And then the noon whistles began to blow, and Ted wondered what he ought to do for lunch. He hadn’t planned on going home. But while he could easily drop in to a nearby restaurant, he suddenly remembered he didn’t have a key to the front door, and he hated to leave the place open and deserted. The back door could be bolted, he discovered, and he decided to eat at a drugstore across the street, where he could keep an eye on the front door.

Better go now, Ted thought, for very likely Mr. Woodring would call in after lunch, and he’d want to be sure and be back. He went out across the street and into the drugstore. He ate slowly, and found it rather pleasant to watch across the street, where a number of passers-by stopped to gaze curiously into the window. At least Mr. Woodring was getting a little bit of publicity for his stamp plan.

After finishing his lunch, Ted would have liked to take a little walk, but he still didn’t care to get out of sight of that open door, so he merely took a short stroll up the street.

Shortly after one Mr. Woodring did call, long distance, from a nearby town.

“Any messages, Ted?” he asked.

“Just one call. Somebody left a number and wants you to call back.”

Ted gave the number, and Mr. Woodring apparently wrote it down. “Is that all?” he asked, and his voice sounded disappointed.

“Yes, I guess so,” Ted replied, and tried to sound a little more cheerful. “Maybe people don’t know we’ve got a telephone yet.”

“Well, maybe.”

“The premiums arrived, and I’ve made up a window display.”

“Good. How do you like them?”

“Fine. They’re good-quality stuff.”

Mr. Woodring’s voice suddenly became brisk. “I’ll be back before four o’clock then, Ted, unless this appointment delays me. If I should be late, you can just pack up and go home anyway.”

“You didn’t leave me a key,” Ted reminded him.

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot about it. Well, anyway, I’ll be there before closing time. There’s no use putting in any overtime with the little business we’ve got.” His voice sounded rather bitter once more, as though his morning calls hadn’t gone over too well. “Good-by, Ted.”

“Good-by, Mr. Woodring,” and they hung up.

Once more the office was still, the passing traffic hardly disturbing the calm. It looked like a long, dull afternoon ahead. Ted recalled that he had started to glance through the catalogue and been interrupted several times. Well, this time he’d really get at it. Yes, the premiums were attractive, and the bicycle especially got him. He began to wonder how long it would take the average family to earn a premium like that. Maybe it would be so long that the boy in the family would be grown up before he could earn it! He looked to see what the catalogue had to say about it. Thirty books! Then he saw there was an alternative in smaller type. The bicycle could also be obtained for five books plus seventy-five dollars. Wow! It was a wonderful bicycle, of course, but the first way would take an impossibly long time, and the other would take a fairly substantial cash outlay.

How much was each book worth, then? Well, that was very easily figured out. You could work it as an algebra problem:

30x = 5x + 75

25x = 75

x = 3

Or to put it another way:

30 books = 5 books plus $75

subtract 5 books = 5 books

25 books = $75

1 book =$3

Three dollars a book—that sounded about right. Ted remembered that Mr. Woodring had spoken of the plan as representing a 3 per cent saving. Just to make sure he worked it out for a mechanical toaster, and it came out the same. On some of the smaller premiums it wasn’t possible to make such a calculation, because the premiums could be obtained only for stamps. The doll, for example, was listed as five books. That seemed all right to Ted. It looked like a fifteen-dollar doll, as far as he could tell.

That meant that a family would have to spend a hundred dollars in order to fill a book and earn three dollars toward a premium. The bicycle, then, costing thirty books, would mean that a family would have to spend three thousand dollars! That was a good deal to spend in local stores. At that rate, it might take the average family several years to spend enough to earn a bicycle. Well, maybe that was just what the stamp plan was for, to encourage people to keep coming back to the same store over a long period of time.

The bicycle, costing thirty books at three dollars a book, was worth ninety dollars. That was rather high, but Ted decided it might be worth it. It certainly had everything, and it was hard to judge about bike prices. There were so many different models, and the price of foreign models was considerably influenced by the duty on them.

Let’s see. If each book came to three dollars, and represented a hundred dollars in purchases, with a Blue Harvest stamp given for each dime, that meant a book ought to contain a thousand stamps. Just for the fun of it, with time hanging heavy on his hands, Ted decided to count up and see. And count he did. It couldn’t be easily calculated, because some of the pages were partly filled with advertising and dummy stamps. These were printed “free” stamps, which the customer didn’t have to cover.

Ted began to count, writing his figures down on a paper after every few pages so he wouldn’t lose count. He wondered just how accurately he would come out. When he finished, his total should add up to a thousand stamps.

The spaces seemed endless. The books were going to take longer to fill than most people realized, unless they bought some big utilities. At last Ted had his column of figures, and ran down it. First column zero, second column zero—that was all right so far. But the third column—fifteen? No, that couldn’t be right, it was only supposed to be ten. Ted frowned. He added it up again. It still came out fifteen hundred stamps.

Something was wrong here. He started over again. He went through the book carefully once more. This time there could be no doubt. A customer had to paste in fifteen hundred stamps in order to complete his book. Fifteen hundred stamps, at ten cents each, meant that the customer would have to spend a hundred and fifty dollars to fill a book.

But if he spent a hundred and fifty dollars to fill a book worth three dollars, then he was getting only 2 per cent on his money. And Ted remembered very clearly that Mr. Woodring had told Mr. Dobson the plan paid 3 per cent.