But Mr. Cummings appeared quite untroubled, and so Tom dared to hope. Even Mr. Wright seemed undismayed by the crowded shelves and took an unusual interest in the goods, pulling them out of place--and leaving them out, too--asking questions as to purpose and price and trying Tom sorely at busy times. And then, quite suddenly, his fears vanished. A Saturday morning came and, as it seemed to the anxious manager of the sporting goods department (that was Joe’s title for him), half of juvenile Amesville poured into the store. Tom was busy that day; busy and happy! Many of the boys came only to look and covet, but there were plenty of sales for all that and the day’s total footed up to forty-three dollars. After that Tom ceased worrying and within a week was sending more orders. The manager of the baseball team came to him and asked prices on new uniforms for the players. He found Tom at a loss, but a reference to catalogues soon put him in position to talk business and in the end, not then, but three days later, he began to take orders. Every fellow on the team had to buy and pay for his own uniform and, as Cummings and Wright’s had been declared the proper place to purchase--Tom having made a special price on an order of nine or more suits--the fellows soon began putting their names down. Grey shirts and trousers and caps, brown and blue striped stockings, and grey webbed belts comprised the outfit and the price was four dollars and a quarter. At first one or two fellows who had last year’s suits in good preservation held off, but Spencer Williams, the manager, bullied them, and, when Tom displayed one of the outfits in the window, they fell into line. There was scant profit on those outfits, but Tom called it “good business” and was satisfied. As complete as the stock was, Tom was continually having demands for things he hadn’t got. As when a fussy, grey-whiskered little gentleman came in and demanded “an aluminum putter.” Poor Tom didn’t know what an aluminum putter was, but he didn’t say so. Instead he regretted the fact that he couldn’t supply one just then and ended, after the fussy gentleman had fussed to his heart’s content, by taking the customer’s order for one. Later he dipped into a catalogue and found it listed. But Tom’s way made a friend of the golfer and he was a constant and heavy purchaser of balls and clubs after that.