Burned Bridges - Page 116/167

Even after Thompson reached Vancouver and the visible signs of a nation

at war confronted him he experienced no patriotic thrill. After all,

there was no great difference, on the surface, between San Francisco and

Vancouver, save that Vancouver accepted as a matter of course the

principle that when the mother country was at war Canada was also a

belligerent and committed to support. Barring the recruiting offices

draped in the Allied colors, squads of men drilling on certain public

squares, successive tag days for the Red Cross, the Patriotic fund and

such organizations, the war did not flaunt itself in men's faces. The

first hot wave of feeling had passed. The thing had become a grim

business to be gone about in grim determination. And side by side with

those unostensible preparations that kept a stream of armed men passing

quietly overseas, the normal business of a city waxed and throve in the

old accustomed way. Thompson's most vivid impression was of accelerating

business activity, and that was his chief concern. The other thing,

which convulsed a far-off continent, was too distant to be a

reality--like an earthquake in Japan, a reported famine in India.

He went about his business circumspectly, without loss of time. He

leased a good location, wired the factory to ship at once, began a

modest advertising campaign in the local papers, and as a business coup

collared--at a fat salary and liberal commission--the best salesman on

the staff of the concern doing the biggest motor-car business in town.

Thompson had learned certain business lessons well. He had perceived

long since that it was a cutthroat game when competition grew keen. And

this matter of the salesman was his first blood in that line. The man

brought with him a list of prospects as long as his arm, and a wide

acquaintance in the town, both assets of exceeding value. Altogether

Thompson got off to a flying start. The arrangement whereby Henderson

consigned cars to him enabled him to concentrate all his small capital

on a sales campaign. He paid freight and duty. His cars he paid for when

they were sold--and the discount was his profit.

When his salesroom was formally opened to the public, with five Summits

on the floor and twice as many en route, when his undertaking and his

car models had received the unqualified approval of a surprising number

of callers, Thompson left the place to his salesman and went to see

Sophie Carr.

That was a visit born of sudden impulse, a desire to talk about

something besides automobiles and making money. But Sophie was out. Her

father, however, made him welcome, supplementing his welcome with red

wine that carried a kick. Thompson sat down before a fireplace, glass in

hand, stretched his feet to the fire, and listened to his host talk.