ones. Igot the first four pairs from a pet shop in Denver, but they'rered--sort of chipmunk color, you know. I've carried them throughseventeen generations of careful selection."
"Well, now," I admitted, "the market for red mice might be ratherlimited. Why don't you consider making an after-shave lotion? Denaturedalcohol, glycerine, water, a little color and perfume. You could buysome bottles and have some labels printed. You'd be in business beforeyou knew it."
There was a pause, then Tommy inquired, "How do you sell it?"
"Door-to-door."
He made a face. "Never build up any volume. Unless it did somethingextra. You say we'd put color in it. How about enough color to leaveyour face looking tanned. Men won't use cosmetics and junk, but if theydidn't have to admit it, they might like the shave lotion."
Hilary had been deep in thought. He said suddenly, "Gosh, I think I knowhow to make a--what do you want to call it--a before-shave lotion."
"What would that be?" I asked.
"You'd use it before you shaved."
"I suppose there might be people who'd prefer to use it beforehand," Iconceded.
"There will be people," he said darkly, and subsided.
Mrs. Miller came out to the barn after a while, bringing a bucket ofsoft drinks and ice, a couple of loaves of bread and ingredients for avariety of sandwiches. The parents had agreed to underwrite lunches atthe barn and Betty Miller philosophically assumed the role ofcommissary officer. She paused only to say hello and to ask how we wereprogressing with our organization meeting.
I'd forgotten all about organization, and that, according to all thearticles I had perused, is most important to such groups. It's standardpractice for every member of the group to be a company officer. Ofcourse a young boy who doesn't know any better, may wind up a salesmanager.
Over the sandwiches, then, I suggested nominating company officers, butthey seemed not to be interested. Peter Cope waved it off by remarkingthat they'd each do what came naturally. On the other hand, theypondered at some length about a name for the organization, withoutreaching any conclusions, so we returned to the problem of what to make.
It was Mary, finally, who advanced the thought of kites. At first therewas little enthusiasm, then Peter said, "You know, we could work upsomething new. Has anybody ever seen a kite made like a wind sock?"
Nobody had. Pete drew figures in the air with his hands. "How about thehole at the small end?"
"I'll make one tonight," said Doris, "and think about the small end.It'll work out all right."
I wished that the youngsters weren't starting out by inventing a newarticle to manufacture, and risking an almost certain disappointment,but to hold my guidance to the minimum, I said nothing, knowing thatlater I could help them redesign it along standard lines.
* * * * *
At supper I reviewed the day's happenings with Marjorie and tried torecall all of the ideas which had been propounded. Most of them wereimpractical, of course, for a group of children to attempt, but severalof them appeared quite attractive.
Tommy, for example, wanted to put tooth powder into tablets that onewould chew before brushing the teeth. He thought there should be twocolors in the same bottle--orange for morning and blue for night, theblue ones designed to leave the mouth alkaline at bed time.
Pete wanted to make a combination nail and wood screw. You'd drive it inwith a hammer up to the threaded part, then send it home with a fewturns of a screwdriver.
Hilary, reluctantly forsaking his ideas on detergents, suggested we makeblack plastic discs, like poker chips but thinner and as cheap aspossible, to scatter on a snowy sidewalk where they would pick up extraheat from the sun and melt the snow more rapidly. Afterward one wouldsweep up and collect the discs.
Doris added to this that if you could make the discs light enough tofloat, they might be colored white and spread on the surface of areservoir to reduce evaporation.
These latter ideas had made unknowing use of some basic physics, and I'mafraid I relapsed for a few minutes into the role of teacher and toldthem a little bit about the laws of radiation and absorption of heat.
"My," said Marjorie, "they're really smart boys and girls. Tommy Millerdoes sound like a born salesman. Somehow I don't think you're going tohave to call in Mr. Wells."
I do feel just a little embarrassed about the kite, even now. The factthat it flew surprised me. That it flew so confoundedly well washumiliating. Four of them were at the barn when I arrived next morning;or rather on the rise of ground just beyond it, and the kite hungmotionless and almost out of sight in the pale sky. I stood and watchedfor a moment, then they saw me.
"Hello, Mr. Henderson," Mary said, and proffered the cord which waswound on a fishing reel. I played the kite up and down for a fewminutes, then reeled it in. It was, almost exactly, a wind sock, but thehole at the small end was shaped--by wire--into the general form of akidney bean. It was beautifully made, and had a sort of professionallook about it.
"It flies too well," Mary told Doris. "A kite ought to get caught in atree sometimes."
"You're right," Doris agreed. "Let's see it." She gave the wire at thesmall end the slightest of twists. "There, it ought to swoop."
Sure enough, in the moderate breeze of that morning, the kite swoopedand yawed to Mary's entire satisfaction. As we trailed back to the barnI asked Doris, "How did you know that flattening the lower edge of thehole would create instability?" She looked doubtful.
"Why it would have to, wouldn't it? It changed the pattern of airpressures." She glanced at me quickly. "Of course, I tried a lot ofdifferent shapes while I was making it."
"Naturally," I said, and let it go at that. "Where's Tommy?"
"He stopped off at the bank," Pete Cope told me, "to borrow some money.We'll want to buy materials to make some of these kites."
"But I said yesterday that Mr. McCormack and I were going to advancesome cash to get started."
"Oh, sure, but don't you think it would be better to borrow from a bank?More businesslike?"
"Doubtless," I said, "but banks generally want some security." I wouldhave gone on and explained matters further, except that Tommy walked inand handed me a pocket check book.
"I got two hundred and fifty," he volunteered--not without a hint ofcomplacency in his voice. "It didn't take long, but they sure made itout a big deal. Half the guys in the bank had to be called in to listento the proposition. The account's in your name, Mr. Henderson, andyou'll have to make out the checks. And they want you to stop in at thebank and give them a specimen signature. Oh, yes, and cosign the note."
My heart sank. I'd never had any dealings with banks except in thematter of mortgages, and bank people make me most uneasy. To say nothingof finding myself responsible for a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollarnote--over two weeks salary. I made a mental vow to sign very fewchecks.
"So then I stopped by at Apex Stationers," Tommy went on, "and orderedsome paper and envelopes. We hadn't picked a name yesterday, but Ifigured what's to lose, and picked one. Ridge Industries, how's that?"Everybody nodded.
"Just three lines on the letterhead," he explained. "RidgeIndustries--Ridgeville--Montana."
I got my voice back and said, "Engraved, I trust."
"Well, sure," he replied. "You can't afford to look chintzy."
* * *
My appetite was not at its best that evening, and Marjorie recognizedthat something was concerning me, but she asked no questions, and I onlytold her about the success of the kite, and the youngsters embarking ona shopping trip for paper, glue and wood splints. There was no use inboth of us worrying.
On Friday we all got down to work, and presently had a regularproduction line under way; stapling the wood splints, then wetting themwith a resin solution and shaping them over a mandrel to stiffen,cutting the plastic film around a pattern, assembling and hanging thefinished kites from an overhead beam until the cement had set. Pete Copehad located a big roll of red plastic film from somewhere
, and it made awonderful-looking kite. Happily, I didn't know what the film cost untilthe first kites were sold.
By Wednesday of the following week we had almost three hundred kitesfinished and packed into flat cardboard boxes, and frankly I didn'tcare if I never saw another. Tommy, who by mutual consent, was ourauthority on sales, didn't want to sell any until we had, as he put it,enough to meet the demand, but this quantity seemed to satisfy him. Hesaid he would sell them the next week and Mary McCready, with a fineburst of confidence, asked him in all seriousness to be sure to hold outa dozen.
Three