"And suppose," I said, "I did have to pay it, I guess I could with all the profit I am making. You, yourself, worked it out and should know." "Profit? Profit?" said Jock. "I didna say ye had any profit. I said the beesiness showed a profit, which is a horse o' anither color." "How so?" I asked. "Profit is no' made 'till goods are sold and paid for," explained Jock. "Your accounts receivable are only worth the value o' the creditors--and some ye hae are nae good. Your beesiness shows a paper profit, but it has all gone into stock. If ye hae tae realize on it, quickly, it would shrink alarmingly in value. In fact, with a forced sale ye would show a big loss on your beesiness venture instead o' the paper gain ye show noo." I had never realized this before, but the way Jock explained it made it clear to me, and it certainly worried me, for I had been feeling contented and satisfied that everything was going along nicely, and here came Jock, who proved to me that all my profit was potential. "Ye can't claim tae hae a pr-rofit," Jock said, "until ye hae the actual money oot o' the beesiness. Never mind what the wise ones tell ye, profit is no' real profit unless it is a cash one which the beesiness can spare. Ye can't spare any money frae your business, so ye hae no real profit." "How am I to pay the bonus to the men?" I asked. "Ye can't," said Jock, "till ye stop increasing your stock so mooch." "Look into this matter also," here Jock wagged his finger at me; "see that ye don't increase your stock investment wi'out increasing your sales correspondingly. If ye are the merchandiser I think ye are, ye'll try to cut doon stock investment and keep up your sales--and increase 'em, thus speeding up your turn-over. "Remember," his parting words were, "never miss your interest on the farm mortgage. If ye do Blickens 'll tak it." Do you wonder I felt worried? I felt as if the ground had been cut right from under my feet. To add to my troubles Stigler advertised a cut-rate sale on garden seeds! CHAPTER XLIII MARTIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE The next week I went with Charlie Martin and Fred Barlow to Boston to buy the automobile accessories which we had decided upon when old man Barlow and I had fixed up that gasoline deal. He had come to the house one evening and suggested it was time to get busy. "Fred knows the automobile business thoroughly--and Charlie is well up on it also," said Barlow, "so I would suggest that, as I have to put up the money, if necessary, on what you buy, you let Fred and Charlie go with you. Their knowledge should be helpful to you." "That's a good idea," I agreed; "we'll go next Monday." "I'll tell Fred to be ready to go with you then," Barlow said. He was silent for a minute, then he went on, "Fred has to buy a lot of automobile accessories for his people, so perhaps, by pooling his and your orders, you can get prices shaved a bit." I looked up with surprise. "I thought Fred had left his Detroit people."