The Territory appealed to the adventurous spirit of the young Skipwith, and as his first venture in business he worked for several years as a traveling salesman (otherwise known as a drummer) in the Territory for a large clothing manufacturer in New York.
He once told me of an incident that occurred at the time of his periodic visit to one of the towns, the name of which, being immaterial, I have forgotten.
In this rather large town there were two or three general stores, the largest one of which was owned by a wealthy old Jew. Skipwith had always done business with the other stores. He always made it a practice, however, to call on the Jew owner, with whom he was quite friendly.
On the occasion of the trip under consideration, Skipwith, having completed his business to his entire satisfaction, was sitting, in the evening, at a table in the lobby of the hotel, making out his routine sales reports. Opening off the lobby was a room devoted to various types of gambling.
While he was at work he could not help but notice a young Jew seated near him who seemed highly nervous and distressed. He saw him several times take out of his pocket, read and reread a letter obviously in a woman's handwriting. From time to time he glanced in the gambling room, and it was obvious that he was considering going in the room to gamble, for some reason connected with the letter.
At this point Skipwith got up and went over to the young man. He introduced himself and said: "I have been watching you for the last hour, and I am quite sure that you are in trouble of some kind, and that you are apparently desperate enough about it to go in there and gamble in the hope of winning enough to get you out of your trouble.
I have been here a number of times and I know that the gambling in there is crooked. You may be allowed to win a little at the beginning, but in the end you will loses everything you have.
I do not know, of course, what your trouble is, but please let me advise you that I am sure that gambling in there will not help."
The young man looked at him, uncertain what to do or say. Then his eyes filled with tears, and he began to tell Skipwith his story.
His father had been a wealthy man and he had always lived in luxury. About the time he graduated from college his father died, and it soon developed that he had recently lost his fortune and that the son would have to make his own living. He had no business experience and, after seeking a position for several months without success as a last resort he went to one of his father's old friends, who was the head of a large clothing manufacturing business, and asked him for any kind of a job that he could get. The friend stated that the only job he could offer him was to replace, on a commission basis, the firm's traveling salesman, who had recently died, in the Indian Territory. The young man gratefully accepted the position, and was now on his first trip. He had already been on the road for several weeks, visiting towns where his firm had always done a good business, but in each case he had not been able to make a good sale. A recent letter from his company had stated that his showing to date had been very disappointing, and that unless he was able to make as good a sale in the next town (the one he was then in) he was to visit as his predecessor had made the previous year he would receive no more expense money and his employment would be terminated.
He further told Skipwith that, on the strength of getting his present job, and being fully confident of his success in it, he had married the girl he had been in love with for several years, and had had just time enough to get her settled in a small apartment before leaving on his first trip; that she had written him several letters telling him that she needed money to pay the household bills. He showed him the latest letter he had received and which he had been reading. In it the young bride told him that the grocer and the butcher had just told her that they could not give her any more credit, that she had explained to him the need for sufficient money to meet these essential needs, but that he had not sent her any, and that she could only conclude that he didn't love her any more, etc., etc.
He admitted that he had just about made up his mind to risk gambling all the money he had, in the hope of making a big enough winning to enable him to send his wife the money she needed, and that, if he lost instead of winning, he would probably end it all in despair.
Skipwith told him that he would accompany him into the gambling hall, and made him promise that he would quit whenever Skipwith told him to do so. They went to the roulette wheel, and Skipwith stood by while the other played the wheel. They were both well dressed and prosperous looking and the dealer sized them up as good prospects. He let the boy win about $50, at which point Skipwith signalled him to quit. They then returned to the lobby and Skipwith said to him: "I think your luck has changed now and that everything is going to work out all right. I know your line of goods, and they are as good as anybody's. You go up to your room, get a table from the clerk and put all of your samples on it as carefully as you can. We will talk things over again tomorrow."
Next morning Skipwith went to see the old Jew who owned the big store, who at once informed him that he didn't want to buy anything, as business had been so poor, etc., etc. Skipwith said: "I didn't come in with the idea of selling you anything. I have already sold a bill of goods to so and so, my regular customers. I came here to tell you about a young Jew who is at the hotel." He told him all about the young man's story, and concluded by saying: "I know that his line of goods is as good as anybody's, and I know that your stock is low in many lines. You have it in your power to purchase what you need at as low a price as you can possibly get it, and at the same time to do a kindness to a fine young man of your race that may save his career. i have told him to put all his samples out on display, and that I thought that everything was going to be all right with him. I have nothing more to say; the matter is in your hands."
The old man reiterated his remarks about how poor business had been, but said that he might possibly drop in next day and look over the line of goods.
Skipwith departed the next morning without seeing the young Jew, and the incident in time passed from his mind. Some six months later he boarded a train and was surprised when a well dressed and prosperous looking young man rushed up to him, threw his arm around him and said: "Mr. Skipwith, don't you remember me? I am the young drummer you were so kind to in so and so about six months ago. I have been hoping ever since to see you again and tell you about the strangest thing that happened next day. You know old man Jacobs, who owns the Boston store there. We have sold him for years, but when I called upon him the day you saw me he told me that he wouldn't be able to buy anything from me. Next day, however, he came in to see me, talked with me for a while, and finally wound up by giving me the biggest order that we had ever sold him. And do you know that from that time on I have had no trouble at all. My sales are very satisfactory to the firm; my wife is very happy indeed, and you were right in telling me that my luck was bound to change." Mr. Skipwith added that for many years after the incident he regularly received a box of cigars on Christmas from his drummer friend.
I have remembered this story, and I have repeated it to you, because I believe the old Jew was an interesting character.