else," volunteered the druggist. "Now I began in this shop
by sweeping out, mornings, and running errands, delivering goods. Got
interested--came to be a clerk after a while. Always saw myself making
up dope, compounding prescriptions. Went off to a school of
pharmacy--came back--showed the old man I could look after the
prescription business. Finally bought him out. Trained for the trade
from the cradle as you might say."

"I wonder if I'm going to be useless," thought Richard, "because I'm
not trained from the cradle. Carson says he began as a wrapper at
fifteen. At my age--he looks my age--he's assistant buyer for one of
Kendrick & Company's biggest departments, and 'in line for promotion,'
as Henderson says. Rich Kendrick, do you think you're in line for
promotion--anywhere? I wonder!"

He had gone back to the hotel and was impatiently awaiting Carson for
some time before the buyer appeared. Carson came in with a look of great
interest and eagerness on his face. The assistant buyer had, Richard
thought, one of the brightest faces he had ever seen. He was sure he had
asked the right man to diagnose the case of the invalid business, even
before Carson began to talk. As the talk progressed he was convinced of
it.

Yet Carson began at the human, not the business, end of the matter.
Richard Kendrick, himself full of concern for his friend Hugh Benson,
liked that, too.

"I never felt sorrier for a man in my life," said Carson. "He shows a
lot of pluck; he never once owned that the thing was too much for him.
But I got him to talking--a little. Didn't need to talk much; the whole
place was shouting at me--every counter, every showcase. Thunder!"

"How did you get him to talking?" Richard asked eagerly.

"Represented myself as an ex-travelling man--the dry-goods line. It's
true enough, if not just the way he took it. Of course he didn't give me
any facts about his business, but we discussed present conditions of the
trade pretty well, and he owned that a good many things puzzled him just
as much as when he was a little chap and used to listen to his father
giving orders. What's going to be wanted and how much? When to load up
and when to unload? How to catch the public fancy and not get caught
yourself? In short, how to turn over the stock in season and out of
season--turn it over and get out from under! He knows no more than a man
who can't swim how to keep his head above water. Nice fellow, too; I
could see it in