Morris automobile. There was one attached to every contract.
"But one hundred before June first?" the older man reflected as he filled his pipe. "I'm not so sure it can be done."
"Done? You've got to do it, Mr. Morris. I've sold 'em!"
This was almost autocratic. George said it like an autocrat, too, with a thump of his doubled fist upon the table. But Mr. Morris did not seem to notice.
"We can make 'em, I guess," he decided, "but we'll have to have more money even than this thirty-three thousand you've brought home. Thirty-three thousand! Can I believe it? I reckon, though, I can take those orders down to my bank and borrow twenty-five thousand on the strength of them."
But again George Judson thumped the table. "No, Mr. Morris," he objected squarely. "No! We won't make any little piker loan like that."
This time Mr. Morris observed the thump and the autocratic note. "Don't let a little success spoil you, George," he warned.
"I'll try not to," said the young salesman, flushing. "But don't you realize that if I sold one hundred automobiles in five weeks, I could sell a thousand automobiles in twelve months?"
"A—a thousand!" Mr. Morris murmured the word hoarsely, then leaned back and gaped, his
