CHAPTER XV

  In spite of all we could do, business fell off. It was just as I hadargued from the very beginning--there wasn't enough trade in Wicksvillefor two stores like ours and Jehoshaphat P. Skip's. Even if we got halfor more than half, it wouldn't keep us running. Of course I know aswell as anybody else that Mark Tidd's schemes had made folks buy morethan they usually did, and for a couple of weeks we sold more than myfather generally sold in that much time, but pretty soon everybody wasstocked up with the sort of stuff we had and things were about as badas ever.

  The week after the rumpus at Old Mose Miller's things started outpretty fair, but along about Wednesday it got dull, and from then onthere weren't enough customers to pay to keep the doors open. It seemedlike we just couldn't draw them in, and I expect it was as bad atSkip's. In fact, I _know_ it was, for we kept watch on him prettyclose. If things kept on like they were going, neither one of thestores could last. Skip would put us out of business, but he would puthimself out of business doing it. I said so to Mark and he told me tokeep thinking about it if I got any particular satisfaction out of it,which I didn't.

  Saturday came along, and though we advertised and trimmed our windowsand fixed up special-bargain-tables, it didn't do a bit of good. Andright there, that very morning, along comes Jehoshaphat P. with anannouncement that with every dollar's purchase he would give a ticketto the moving-picture show that had started up in the opera-house.

  Mark Tidd was so mad at himself he could have taken a bite out of hisown ear if he could have got hold of it.

  "Sh-should have thought of that myself," he says, and went sulking tothe back of the store and wouldn't have anything to do with anybody fora couple of hours. There he sat, scowling and whittling--and we keptaway from him as far as we could. I know just how bad he felt.

  For once he didn't have a scheme. Yes, sir. Right there he seemed to godry. We expected him to come up with a new idea that would stand Skipand his moving-picture show on their heads, but he didn't. He neversaid a word. I guess he'd been thinking up so many plans that he wasabout run dry. And I don't blame him. I'd have run dry long before.

  But just the same it was the most discouraging thing that had happenedto us yet. So long as Mark Tidd kept going there was hope, but if hebegan to slip we might just as well close the doors and give the Bazarto Jehoshaphat.

  That day we did a little business, and for the next week we sold enoughso there was something to send mother at the end of the week, but wedidn't lay a cent aside. We paid expenses and a little over. If therehad been clerks to pay we would have come out behind. Most of the timeMark sat back on a packing-box and whittled. We left him alone. He wasas worried as we were, and we knew he was trying, trying every minute.

  I guess the only thing that kept our heads above water was that beautycontest. Folks kept right on being interested in that and watched forresults every time we put up names. Principal Pilkins, with a lot ofyoung ladies working for him, was climbing up pretty fast. Mr. Petersonwas coming strong, too. His wife stirred up a lot of votes for him, andso did Mrs. Bloom for her husband. One week one of them would be ahead,and the next week the other would shoot into the lead. Then there wereChet and Chancy! I guess those two gave up everything else to run downvotes. They begged them and borrowed them and worked for them andtraded for them. Yes, that is a fact. Votes got to be a sort of moneyamong the boys. You were always sure you could swap them for something.Most of the time there was a boy or so hanging around the front of theBazar to ask everybody that came out for the votes they'd got. Somepeople weren't interested a bit, and would toss them over. So the boysmanaged to get a stock. Those five were in the lead a little. You nevercould tell which one would come out ahead until there was a count. Butat least a dozen more men were up where they had a chance. So everybodywas interested, and almost everybody was mad at somebody else. That'sall that kept us going.

  The next week Mark managed to think up a couple of things to interestfolks. One was a guessing-contest. He filled a big bottle with beansand put it in the window. Everybody who bought a nickel's worth couldhave a guess at how many beans there were, and the one who came nearestwas to get a prize. If it was a lady she got a pair of gloves, and ifit was a man he got a patent safety razor that looked like a crossbetween the cow-catcher on an engine and a hoe.

  Wicksville was quite a place to guess, so we got in a little trade withthat. That week we did better than the week before. But after we hadsent mother what she needed we only put by five dollars in the bank. Wewere still nearly three hundred dollars away from having enough to payJehoshaphat P. Skip his five hundred dollars and get free from thechattel mortgage.

  "Mark," says I, that Saturday night as we were closing up, "how aboutit? Of course we've got to hang on as long as we can for the folks'sake, but we're beat, hain't we? Jehoshaphat has sunk our ship."

  Mark was mad in a minute. "S-sunk nothin'!" says he. "We got a coupleof weeks more, and who knows what'll turn up? I'm a-goin' to think ofsomethin'. I know I am. It'll come. So don't you go gittin' any moredownhearted than you can help. Jehoshaphat P. Skip isn't goin' tob-b-bust this business while I got a leg to stand on."

  "All right," says I, "but your leg's gettin' sawed off fast."

  He didn't say anything to that. I guess there wasn't anything to say.After a while he says:

  "There's ways of makin' m-m-money--of makin' a lot of it at once.That's what I've been figgerin' on. If we could just pay off Skip Ibelieve this business will go along. I don't b-believe two businesseslike his and ours can make a living in Wicksville. But I do b-believewe'll be the one that's left. He can't afford to keep on, and we can'tafford to quit. And there you are."

  "Then," I says, sarcastic-like, "all we got to do is raise threehundred dollars in six or eight days."

  He squinted at me, but didn't say anything.

  "We've been tryin' to raise that money for five weeks," I says. "Fiveweeks! And what have we got to show for it? Two hundred dollars! That'show much. Just git out your pencil and figger it up: if it takes fourboys five weeks to raise two hundred dollars, what chance have they gotto raise three hundred in one week?"

  Then we went home.

  Sunday, just before dinner--I was invited over to Mark's for dinnerthat day--Zadok Biggs came driving his peddler's wagon into the yard.We could hear him coming for a block, his tin dishes rattling and hiswhistle going. "Marching Through Georgia" was what he whistled, and youshould hear the way he can rip it out. There are trills and runs andwiggles and bird-calls and all sorts of things. I expect he's the bestwhistler in Michigan.

  He sat on the seat looking down as important as a brand-new poll-parrotand didn't say a word for a minute. Then he put his hand on his hip andstuck out his chest and says:

  "Opportunity. Have you heard Zadok Biggs mention that word before? Eh?I believe I have mentioned it. I am sure I have pronounced it in yourhearing. Have I not?"

  "You have," says I.

  "Zadok Biggs has been thinking of you--of all four of you boys engagedin the mercantile enterprise--business is the more usual expression--ofrunning Smalley's Bazar. I have thought of you often. I have askedmyself if I could be of assistance to you. I have looked about me todiscover an opportunity to offer you." He drew himself up again andcocked his head as if he'd done something to be mighty proud of. "Itwas not in vain, says I. I looked--and I saw. I come to-day bringingyou an opportunity. What have you to say to that? An opportunity. Ibring it to-day."

  "I say," says Mark Tidd, "that it comes at a l-l-lucky time."

  "Get down and come in," says Mrs. Tidd. "Dinner's all ready and there'schicken and biscuits in gravy and pumpkin-pie and--"

  Zadok didn't let her finish.

  "Don't repeat the bill of fare, ma'am. It is not necessary. What therewill be I do not care. That I am to dine with the parents of MarcusAurelius Fortunatus Tidd is enough. Any food prepared by the hand ofMrs. Tidd is better than a banquet. I will come down. I am coming down.See--I am
down."

  It was a fact. He was down, and went trotting ahead of us into thehouse.

  "The opportunity--" he started in; but Mrs. Tidd cut him off.

  "You can fuss around with your opportunity after dinner," she says. "Idon't want these vittles to get cold. Set right down and 'tend toeatin'."

  So we sat down, and you can bet we did 'tend to eating. I expect Mrs.Tidd is one of the reasons why Mark is so fat. Anybody would be thatate the kind of things she cooks every day. Why, Mrs. Tidd can take acold potato and the hoop off a barrel and a handful of marbles and makea meal out of them that beats anything you can get even at a city hotel!

  After dinner we went into the parlor and Mr. Tidd got down his _Declineand Fall of the Roman Empire_ and started to read to us, but Mrs. Tiddstopped _him_. Mrs. Tidd was boss around there. "Now, pa," says she,"you put that book right up. Mr. Biggs has something he wants to tellthe boys."

  "Um!" says Mr. Tidd, "that's so. I was clean forgetting all about it. Iguess the _Decline and Fall_ will wait a spell. But I would like toread 'em jest this leetle piece here--" He started to open up the bookagain, but Mrs. Tidd took it right out of his hand and put it on thetable.

  "Go on, Mr. Biggs," says she. "I'll see you don't get interrupted."

  "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you a thousand times. A wonderful woman, boys.A remarkable woman. Also a remarkable man. Did he not invent a turbinethat has made him rich? Eh? He did. Zadok Biggs knows well that he did.Did he not name his son Marcus Aurelius Fortunatus? Eh? He did. Thatwas an achievement, boys. Where is another name like that? Where--"

  "You're interruptin' yourself," says Mrs. Tidd.

  "Um," says Zadok, making a little face. "Well, ma'am, I'm on the righttrack now.... I have an opportunity--an opportunity for anybody in thebazar business. Especially anybody who has to compete with afive-and-ten-cent store. The opportunity is in Sunfield. Where, you mayask, is Sunfield? It is a village not thirty miles from here." We knewthat as well as he did. "It is a little village, a pretty village. Itis a village you will always think of kindly when I tell you of theopportunity that is to be found there."

  "Well, then," says Mrs. Tidd, "why don't you tell about it?"

  Zadok swallowed hard, but he grinned and went on.

  "There's a man in Sunfield who started up a five-and-ten-cent store.Pretty store. Good stock. Nice man. Then what did he do? Why, friends,he got sick. His doctor says he must go West. He is going West. What,then, becomes of the store? It is to be sold. The owner is even nowlooking for a purchaser--for somebody to buy it is the more commonphrase." He stopped and beamed around at us. "There," says he, "is theopportunity."

  Right along I'd been hoping. I thought maybe Zadok had hit onsomething that would help us out, but when I heard what it was myheart plopped right down into my boots. What good was the stock of afive-and-ten-cent store to us? We couldn't buy a postage-stamp to senda letter to Sunfield, let alone a stock of goods. I looked at Mark. Hedidn't look like he was disappointed. He didn't look happy, either,but he did look thoughtful. Right off I saw he thought he could seesomething in it.

  "How m-much does he want for it?" Mark says.

  "It can be purchased cheaply. The owner must have cash. He willsacrifice. That stock must be worth close to a couple of thousanddollars. I believe, and my belief is not without foundation, that youcan buy it for half of that."

  "Hum!" says Mark. "Hum!... Complete stock?"

  "As fine a stock as you'd wish to see."

  "We'll go over to s-see it to-morrow, Plunk," says Mark.

  I shrugged my shoulders. "What's the use?" says I. "We can't buy it,and if we could, what would we do with it?"

  "I dun'no'," says he. "Maybe we could figger on s-some way of buyin'it. I've seen sicker horses 'n that g-git well."

  "But not on the kind of medicine we got to give 'em," says I.

  "Anyhow," says Mark, "we'll go over t-to-morrow. You don't need to,though, Plunk, if you don't think it's worth while. But I'm goin'. I'mgoin' to see that stock. I'm goin' to have a look at Zadok Biggs'sopportunity."

  "I knew it," said Zadok. "I knew Marcus Aurelius would not disappointme. I knew he would see the possibilities of this opportunity. I do notblame you, Plunk Smalley, for failing to see them. It was not to beexpected. There is only one Marcus Tidd. Only one."

  "Yes," says I, "and that one has bit off a leetle more'n he can chawcomfortable this time."

  Mark didn't even look at me. He was pinching his cheek and squinting uphis eyes like he does when his mind is about as busy as it can be.Pretty soon he looked up at Zadok.

  "Say," says he, "can you tell me, Zadok, what an option is, and how itworks?"

  Well, sir, Zadok jumped right up and danced. "I knew it," says he. "Iknew Marcus Tidd would see the opportunity. I knew he would never missit. What is an option? That's what he asks. You heard him. Now listenand Zadok Biggs will explain. He will make an option so clear to youthat--that even Plunk Smalley will be able to make one with his eyesshut."

  "Well," says Mrs. Tidd, "what _is_ an option?"

  "The man who wrote the dictionary," Zadok explained, "says an option isa right to make a deal or not to make it before a certain time. Notvery clear, is it? I will enlighten you--make it plain to you is thecustomary way of saying it. Suppose I want to buy a cow from Mr. Tidd.I want that cow, and I don't want anybody else to get it before I do.But, alas! I haven't enough money to pay what Mr. Tidd asks. What do Ido? I take an option. I go to Mr. Tidd and say, 'Mr. Tidd, I will giveyou a dollar if you will agree not to sell that cow to anybody elsebefore next Tuesday, and if you will agree to sell it to me any timebefore Tuesday for forty-one dollars.'"

  "That's too much for a cow," says Mrs. Tidd.

  "This is an imaginary cow," says Zadok. Then he grinned all over. "Thatkind is more expensive, ma'am, because they don't eat up any fodder....Well, that's an option. It's where somebody else agrees to sell yousomething on or before a certain day, and not to sell it to anybodyelse in the mean time. Understand?" He said that to me, because, _I_expect, he thought if I understood it it must be clear to everybodyelse.

  "But," says I, "suppose you pay a dollar for the right to buy Mr.Tidd's cow on Tuesday, and then when Tuesday comes you haven't anymoney?"

  "Why, then, Plunk, Mr. Tidd can sell his cow to anybody else he wantsto."

  "But don't it cost me anything?"

  "Nothing but the dollar you paid him to wait till Tuesday for you."

  "Huh," says I, "I understand options, all right, but for the life of meI can't see what good they're going to do us."

  I looked over at Mark Tidd, expecting him to explain, but I guess hewas a little provoked at me because I didn't think much of the wholescheme, whatever it was, and so he shut his mouth tight like the lid ofa trunk and wouldn't say a word.

  "We'd better get an early start," says he, "and t-take no chances."

  "Yes, indeed," says Zadok.

  "Are you going to c-come, Plunk?" Mark asked.

  "Sure," says I, "if I can be of any help."

  "Well," says he, grinning a more cheerful grin than I'd seen on hisface for weeks, "you can't do any harm, anyhow."