Desk and Debit Part 13

I replied, blus.h.i.+ng at the compliments showered upon me.

"But, Phil, you should not attempt to do what you don't understand."

"I thought I was perfectly competent to make out a trial balance, sir."

"Undoubtedly you are. It isn't that," he interposed, with a pleasant smile. "There are certain details of the business which you don't understand, and you can't make out a correct trial balance without including those details."

"I supposed I understood all about the business, and perhaps it would have come out all right if I had only had those invoices."

"I don't know how that might have been. But suppose Mr. Collingsby had seen your statement, that the firm had lost ten thousand dollars in six months."

"I did not intend to show it to him."

"Still he might have seen it. You might have left it on the desk, and a single glance at it would have alarmed him, when, you can see for yourself, the business is paying a large profit."

"I made the statement only for you, and I showed it to you in order to have my blunder pointed out."

"You did perfectly right, Phil, but an accident might have happened,"

said he, walking to the desk where my sheets were still lying.

He picked them up, tore them into a great many pieces, and threw them into the waste basket.

"At the end of the year we will make out a trial balance together," he added.

I did not like to see the result of so much hard labor destroyed; especially as, by Mr. Whippleton's own showing, the figures would be correct when he produced the missing invoices. But I had my rough draft, which I had carefully copied, in the desk, and I intended to carry this home, in order to ascertain at some future time whether my figures were correct or not. When I obtained the invoices I could tell whether I had made a failure or not in the act of taking a trial balance. I was not satisfied that I was so utterly stupid as my employer made me out to be.

"Those bills ought to have been entered on the lumber book," said I, when the junior partner had disposed of my papers.

"That's of no consequence at all. The lumber book is a humbug," he replied; "I don't believe in it; indeed, I had even forgotten that there was any such book. The firm don't recognize it, and I think it is liable to lead us all into blunders and errors, as it has you."

He went to the other side of the desk, where the objectionable volume lay, turned over its leaves, and glanced at its pages. He was still very nervous, for the effects of his sudden attack of illness appeared not to have left him.

"No reliance whatever can be placed on this book, and I am disposed to destroy it."

"I thought it was a very good thing. Faxon uses it a great deal, and says he can tell what stock he has on hand, when a customer comes, without going out of the counting-room."

"It is not reliable. The only way to know what stock we have is by looking it over."

Very likely he would have destroyed it if Mr. Collingsby had not called him into the private counting-room at this moment. He evidently had a hearty grudge against the book, which I thought was entirely groundless.

"Mr. Whippleton don't think much of your lumber book," said I, when the head salesman came in a moment later.

"Why, what's the matter with it?" asked the man.

"He says it is not reliable."

"I think it is; and since I adopted it, two or three other concerns have kept one like it, after asking me about it. What's the reason it isn't reliable?"

"You may neglect to enter invoices or sales."

"Your ledger wouldn't be good for anything if you neglected to carry all your items to its pages."

I was about to specify more particularly that the firm had about forty thousand dollars' worth of stock on hand more than appeared in the lumber book, when Mr. Whippleton returned. He evidently understood what I was doing, and told me to make up the bank account.

"You needn't say anything to Faxon about his book. Let him keep it, if he wishes to do so," said he.

"I did say something to him."

"You did? What did you say?"

"I only told him you didn't think his book was reliable."

"That's no more than the truth, but you need not mention the matter again. It will only make unpleasant feeling. Smooth it over if he says anything more about it, and let the matter drop."

I was rather puzzled, but I went on with the bank account.

"And by the way, Phil, you needn't say anything to Mr. Collingsby about those invoices," he added, a little while after.

"I shall not be likely to do so. He hardly ever speaks to me, and I never do to him, unless it is to answer a question."

"He's very fussy and particular. It was careless in me to leave those papers at home, but it is all right now. This is a fine day, Phil, and we will take a sail about four o'clock if you like."

I did like; I always liked to take a sail. I had been with him a dozen times already, and had been promoted to the position of able seaman on board, for I had taken the helm, and actually worked the boat alone for hours at a time. I had been out with the junior partner in some pretty heavy blows, and enjoyed them too. In fact, I considered myself as competent to handle the Florina as I was to make out a trial balance. I looked into the theory of sailing a boat, and understanding the principles, I found the practice easy.

After the business of the day was done, we embarked, and sailed with a stiff breeze to the head of the lake. Mr. Whippleton was more than usually kind and considerate, but he appeared to be thoughtful and troubled. He gave me the helm, and went into the cabin as soon as we were out of the river. He sat at the table, with a pencil and paper, and seemed to be absorbed in some difficult calculation.

At dark we were off Indiana City. I reported to Mr. Whippleton, and he came on deck. He told me to come about, and I did so without any a.s.sistance from him. He talked a little about the business of the firm, but soon relapsed into silence. His manner was somewhat strange, but I attributed it to his ill health. We had an abundant supply of provisions on board, such as crackers, sardines, lambs' tongues; and we usually took our supper on board, as we did not return to the city till nine or ten. Sometimes we cooked ham and eggs, beefsteak, or a mutton chop, and made coffee. I was cook and steward generally, but this time my employer brought up some eatables, and we took our supper in the standing-room. I noticed that he had no appet.i.te, and I was really afraid that he would be seriously ill.

The next day I carried home all the papers relating to my trial balance, and locked them up in my valise. Mr. Whippleton staid in the counting-room all day for the next week, but nothing more was said of my unfortunate attempt to prove my zeal. He did not, however, bring the missing invoices, and I ventured to mention the matter again. He had forgotten all about them, but would attend to it the next day.

Another week elapsed before he produced them. I looked them over, and they appeared to be correct. They were in the ordinary forms, with the printed headings of the establishments at which the lumber had been purchased. As soon as he gave them to me I took up the lumber book.

"You needn't enter them on that book, Phil," said the junior partner; "I don't believe in that book, and I won't have anything to do with it.

File them away, and don't say anything about them to any one."

Of course I obeyed my orders, but I confess that I began to think something was wrong. The Whippleton idea of honesty was not very high.

The cash amounts of these invoices had been paid, and I supposed the lumber had been received in the yard. But Mr. Whippleton was a partner in the concern, and he could not mean to cheat himself. My curiosity was excited, but as a clerk I had no right to meddle with what did not concern me.

When I went to bed that night I could not sleep, for my mind would dwell upon the mysterious invoices. I heard the clock on a church strike twelve, and still I was awake. A few minutes later I heard a knock at my door. Mrs. Whippleton had been sick for a week, and I found that the summons came from her nurse. The landlady was worse, and she wanted to see me at once. I hastily dressed myself, and went to her.

"Phil, I know you are honest; everybody says so. I want to see you,"

said she, as I entered.

I could not imagine what my honesty had to do with the matter, but I waited for an explanation.

CHAPTER XI.