“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?”