and talked all right--always careful,
always considerate, always polite.
One noon, after he had been with me for a year or two, I met him coming
in from his route looking glum; so I handed him fifty dollars as a
little sweetener. I never saw a fifty cheer a man up like that one did
Charlie, and he thanked me just right--didn't stutter and didn't slop
over. I earmarked Charlie for a raise and a better job right there.
Just after that I got mixed up with some work in my private office and I
didn't look around again till on toward closing time. Then, right
outside my door I met the office manager, and he looked mighty glum,
too.
"I was just going to knock on your door," said he.
"Well?" I asked.
"Charlie Chasenberry is eight hundred dollars short in his collections."
"Um--m," I said, without blinking, but I had a gone feeling just the
same.
"I had a plain-clothes man here to arrest him this evening, but he
didn't come in."
"Looks as if he'd skipped, eh?" I asked.
"I'm afraid so, but I don't know how. He didn't have a dollar this
morning, because he tried to overdraw his salary account and I wouldn't
let him, and he didn't collect any bills to-day because he had already
collected everything that was due this week and lost it bucking the
tiger."
I didn't say anything, but I suspected that there was a sucker somewhere
in the office. The next day I was sure of it, for I got a telegram from
the always polite and thoughtful Charlie, dated at Montreal:
"Many, many thanks, dear Mr. Graham, for your timely assistance."
Careful as usual, you see, about the little things, for there were just
ten words in the message. But that "Many, many thanks, dear Mr. Graham,"
was the closest to slopping over I had ever known him to come.
I consider the little lesson that Charlie gave me as cheap at eight
hundred and fifty dollars, and I pass it along to you because it may
save you a thousand or two on your experience account.
Your affectionate father,
JOHN GRAHAM.
+----------------------------+
| No. 14 |
+----------------------------+
| From John Graham, at the |
| Union Stock Yards in |
| Chicago, to his son, |
| Pierrepont, at The |
|