He nodded to Thompson, bade him be seated. And Thompson sank into a
chair, facing John P. across the desk. He wanted nothing, expected
nothing. He was simply smitten with a human curiosity to know what this
stout, successful man of affairs had to propose to him.
"My name is Thompson," he stated cheerfully. "It is ten o'clock. I have
called--as you suggested."
Henderson smiled.
"I have been accused of hastiness in my judgment of men, but it is
admitted that I seldom make mistakes," he said complacently. "In this
organization there is always a place for able, aggressive young men.
Some men have ability without any force. Some men are aggressive with no
ability whatever. How about you? Think you could sell motor-cars?"
"How the deuce do I know?" Thompson replied frankly. "I have never
tried. I'm handicapped to begin. I know nothing about either cars or
salesmanship."
"Would you like to try?"
Thompson considered a minute.
"Yes," he declared. "I've tried several things. I'm willing to try
anything once. Only I do not see how I can qualify."
"We'll see about that," John P.'s eyes kept boring into him. "D'ye mind
a personal question or two?"
Thompson shook his head.
He did not quite know how it came about, but he passed under Henderson's
deft touch from reply to narration, and within twenty minutes had
sketched briefly his whole career.
Henderson sat tapping the blotter on his desk with a pencil for a silent
minute.
"You have nothing to unlearn," he announced abruptly. "All big
commercial organizations must to a certain extent train their own men. A
man who appears to possess fundamental qualifications is worth his
training. I have done it repeatedly. I am going to proceed on the
assumption that you will become a useful member of my staff, ultimately
with much profit to yourself. I propose that you apply yourself
diligently to mastering the sale of motor cars to individual purchasers.
I shall pay you twenty-five dollars a week to begin. That's a mechanic's
wages. If you make good on sales--there's no limit to your earning
power."
"But, look here," Thompson made honest objection. "I appreciate the
opportunity. At the same time I wonder if you realize what a lot I have
to learn. I don't know a thing about cars beyond how to change a tire
and fill grease cups. I've never driven, never even started a motor.
How can I sell cars unless I know cars?"
"You overestimate your handicap," John P. smiled. "Knowing how to build
and repair cars and knowing how to sell cars are two entirely different
propositions. The first requires a high degree of technical knowledge
and a lot of practical experience. Selling is a matter of
personality--of the power to convince. You can learn to drive in two or
three days. In a month you will handle a machine as well as the other
fellow, and you will learn enough about the principal parts and their
functions--not only of our line, but of other standard machines--to
enable you to discuss and compare them intelligently. The rest will
depend upon a quality within yourself that has nothing to do with the
mechanical end."