A Man of Samples | Page 2

Good; here was a ray of comfort. "Hotel? Well, I should say so. Where
is your light?"
"Here it is." And a lantern came around a corner as the train dashed off
on its way.
"Don't mind your trunk; that will be taken care of and I'll get it in the
morning. Here, Dan, lead the way,"
We walked a square or two and went into a neat appearing office. Bed?
Yes, I might as well get a few hours' sleep. And I was given a very
comfortable room. I lay in bed trying to recall our customer's name, and
preparing my speech of introduction when--. Some one was rapping at
the door. What's up? Breakfast! What, breakfast already? Why, I hadn't
thought I was asleep at all.
As I looked over the register, after breakfast, dreading to start out, I
asked the clerk;
"Been any gun men here lately?"
"None since last week. Layton was here from Pittsburg on the 22d."
"Did he sell anything?"
"I think he did sell Cutter a small bill"
"How many stores are there here?"
"Three that sell guns. Are you in the gun business!"
"Yes. I am from Pittsburg."

I hung back as long as I dared; found out all about the trains; picked up
facts and fancies about the merchants; got my cards and price-book
handy; stuck four revolvers (samples) in my pockets; pulled my hat
down solidly on my head, and started out. And every step I took I,
figuratively, kicked myself for being there, and for being a blasted fool
generally. "JOHN O. JORDAN, GUNS AND REVOLVERS."
This was the legend that attracted my attention, and toward it I took my
way. I stopped at the window long enough to take a hasty inventory of
its contents, and from it I sized up my man. There were some goods
there that came from our store; this cheered me, I took courage, walked
in, and handed Mr. Jordan my card.
"We have done some business with you," I said, in my blandest tones,
"and Mr. Mallon always spoke pleasantly of you [this was a random
shot]; he has taken a wife unto himself, and I am making his trip."
"Why the devil don't you send me the goods I ordered last time from
him? Where are those British bull-dogs? Did he sell them too low, or is
my credit poor?"
Phew! There it was. I must first close up an old sore before I could do
anything else. I might have known it would be just so, but I was such a
pig-headed fool I hadn't thought of this.
"Tell me all about it, Mr. Jordan;" and he told it, with fire in his eye.
But he felt better for having told it. I knew nothing of it till now, but I
took out my book and said:
"Mr. Jordan, the goods will come now. You may depend upon it. How
many bull-dogs do you want?"
"I don't want any. I got some of Layton. The house can't fool me
again."
I sat down on the counter and gave him fourteen reasons for his order
not having been filled (I hope some of them were true), and then I
pulled out a "Pet" revolver and asked him if seventy-five cents was not

mighty low for that.
He admitted that it was, but he had bought of Layton five cents lower.
Then I explained wherein Layton's was ten cents poorer than mine (I
hadn't seen his), and why he ought to give mine the preference. What
had he paid for 32-caliber?
"One twenty-five."
I drew out mine at $1.20, and I convinced him that mine was a better
pistol than his, although he said he had already more than he ought to
have and he would not buy more. Then I placed an automatic ejector
under his eyes, threw out the shells, cocked it and snapped it, and
explained how, though it cost us $6.70, I was going to sell him some at
$6.
"No, you ain't," said he, "I've got two on hand and can't give them
away."
By this time it struck me I was making but little headway and was
wasting my breath in praising goods he already had, so I concluded the
best plan to go on was to see what he had, and govern myself
accordingly. He seemed to have everything, confound him! There was
nothing he had not bought in the thirty days, and I began to think I
could use my time better somewhere else, when a man came in to buy a
gun, and I stepped aside to watch the subsequent proceedings.
The story told by that retailer about those guns would have made a dog
howl, if it were not for the fact that he