Before going to bed, I figured out what the store should be worth to me. Jim had told me he turned over his stock about three times a year, and that he made about 10 per cent. clear profit. Three times $9460.00 would be $28,380.00; and if he made 10 per cent., clear profit, that would be $2838.00 a year--call it $3000.00 a year. That was $60.00 a week! Gee!--some jump from what I was getting at Barlow's! I thought how easy it was to make money when you had some to start with! Here I had been working my head off for a year and a half and getting only $10.00 a week, and now I would be making $60.00. I decided to ask Betty to--oh, well, I'd wait a month or two until I saw if it worked out just like that. Better be on the safe side! CHAPTER II READY TO GO AHEAD Mother had a talk with me about the store, in the morning and asked me to try to get my money back from Jim. She said she had never liked Jim, and that he was a bit careless in his transactions. When mother said anybody was careless in their transactions, she meant he was a crook, but I knew Jim better than that, and I told her so. Mother said she didn't want me to lose my money as soon as I'd got it. I was all the Mater had, for Dad had died a few years before. Fortunately, his life was well insured and mother had enough to live on. I told her I was a young progressive, but I was not taking any chances with anything that affected her, so there was no need for her to worry. I told Barlow that I'd have to leave him that day because I had bought out Jim Simpson's store and was to start in on the following Monday. He looked at me for a minute, and said: "Have you paid him for it yet?" "Yes, sir," I said. "I suppose Jim's going out West, isn't he?" "Yes, sir," I said again. He paused again, and then he said: "Well, look here, son, you've always been a good worker with me. You still have a lot to learn, however, because you wasted your evenings instead of doing some studying, but I'd like to see you 'make good' and I'll help you all I can." I was surprised at this, and I said: "But, Mr. Barlow, we'll be competitors then!" I began to like Barlow very much then, for he put his hand on my shoulder, and said: "Look here, son, can't we be competitors and yet be friends! Remember, I have a store several times larger than the one you are going into, so it is you who will have to compete with me, not I with you." That was a new thought to me all right. "We can be friends, even if we are competitors, you know," Mr. Barlow continued, "and if you get into any kind of trouble, come around and see me and I'll do what I can to help you." I was sure he meant it, too. And all the time I had thought that Barlow was a "has been." What a different slant you seem to get on people as soon as you get up to their position! I suppose it's just like climbing a mountain; if you want to see the view the other fellow sees, you have to get up to the same height which he has surmounted.