material here. I need a helper.
He'll get a thorough grounding. Whenever you and he decide that he has
absorbed sufficient mechanics he can join the sales end. I'd like to
train one man for you, properly."

"Well," John P. remarked judicially, "I can't waste the whole morning
discussing methods of training salesmen in the way they should go. I've
made Mr. Thompson a proposition. What do you say?"

He turned abruptly on Thompson.

"Or," young Henderson cut in. "You have the counter proposition of an
indefinite mechanical grind in my department--which is largely
experimental. If you take to it at all I guarantee that in six months
you will know more about the internal combustion motor and automobile
design in general than any two salesmen on my father's staff. And that,"
he added, with a boyish grimace at his father, "is saying a lot."

It seemed to Thompson that both men regarded him with a considerable
expectancy. It perplexed him, that embarrassment of opportunity. He was
a little dazed at the double chance. Here was Opportunity clutching him
by the coat collar. He had nothing but impulse, and perhaps a natural
craving for positive knowledge, to guide his choice. He wasted few
seconds, however, in deciding. Among other things, he had outgrown
vacillation.

"It is just as I said," he addressed Henderson senior. "I'd feel more
competent to sell cars if I knew them. I'd rather start in the shop."

"All right," Henderson grunted. "You're the doctor. Be giving Fred a
chance to prove one of his theories. Personally I believe you'd make a
go of selling right off the bat, and a good salesman is wasted in the
mechanical line. When you feel that you've saturated your system with
valve clearances and compression formulas and gear ratios and all the
rest of the shop dope, come and see me. I'll give you a try-out on the
selling end. For the present, report to Fred."

He reached for some papers on the desk. His manner, no less than his
words, ended the interview. Thompson rose.

"When can you start in?" young Henderson inquired.

"Any time," Thompson responded quickly. He was, in truth, a trifle eager
to see what made the wheels go round in that establishment. "I only have
to change my clothes."

"Come after lunch then," young Henderson suggested. "Take the elevator
to the top floor. Ask one of the men where you'll find me. Bring your
overalls with you. We have a dressing room and lockers on each floor."

He nodded goo