*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74145 ***


RADIO RAZZ

By Jack Woodford


I have always liked to hang around old Doc Edwards’s radio store in the
evenings; not, particularly, because of any great interest in radio, for
I have a five tube set of my own with which I can pick up everything
from Kahoolawe to Nansen Sound and I could just as well stay at home and
try for the Eiffel Tower; but it’s the way old Doc Edwards sells ’em
that gets me.

You see, the “Doctor” comes from Edwards’s days as a veterinary surgeon;
but old man Edwards was never at heart a veterinary surgeon, he was in
reality a horse trader. When horses got to the point where people began
to consider saving the last remaining specimens for zoological gardens
and historical societies, Doc Edwards turned to radio. And oh, what a
radio salesman he is!

To begin with, he won’t have a new set in his store, or, if he does have
to stock a few new sets now and then, he invariably marks them
“secondhand,” for he hates anything that has a fixed price on it.

Not a set in Doc’s shop has a price tag, and not a set but what he may
vary the price from one hundred to one thousand per cent. And I wish you
could see him sell them. All he aims to do is to get _some_ cash out of
any one who comes in the store, and, leave it to him, he never fails; at
least, I never saw him fail except once, the night he had matchmaking in
his head.

You see, Doc is a kindly old cuss, and it isn’t so much that he wants to
make a whale of a lot of money as that he just naturally enjoys a shrewd
bargain. After he’s made one he’s as happy as a lark, whether any more
customers come in or not; but, if he makes a bad bargain, the best thing
to do is to go home, for Doc won’t be worth talking to for the rest of
the evening.

One of Doc’s pet theories is that if you use a real good super-hetrodyne
set, on a clear, calm night, sitting in a dark room with all light
excluded, there is a way of tuning that permits you to see the whole
solar firmament in the mouth of your loud speaker. I’ve always thought
that that was a lot of bunk, but--well, we’ll see.

One night I dropped into Doc’s store around eight thirty to watch him
make a few “trades,” as he invariably called his sales.

He was looking kind of glum, and I surmised that he must have turned a
pretty bad bargain somewhere along in the afternoon, and wouldn’t be
worth while talking to that evening, and I was just about getting ready
to go home again when in came the prettiest girl I ever laid eyes on.

She was about twenty or thereabouts, and dressed up to the minute.

“Want to look at a five tube set, neutrodyne circuit,” she said to Doc.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Doc, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
He loved to bargain with women because they were so much shrewder than
the men usually. “I got some of the finest five tube neutrodynes in the
city, madam; of course, they’re all secondhanded, but, most of ’em is as
good as new, and I guarantee every set to work; if it don’t you’re at
liberty to bring it back and have it fixed free of charge, or get
another one, just as you like. Anyone who has done business with me will
tell you that Doc Edwards is strictly on the square.”

“Yes,” agreed the young woman, looking at me curiously out of the corner
of her eye, “several people I know in the neighborhood have spoken very
well of you to me; I have every confidence in you.” She lowered her head
for a moment after this remark, and Doc shot a glance at me in high
glee, a glance which said “Watch me!”

I, however, was busy watching the girl. I must admit that it had been a
long time since I had seen a pretty woman who interested me so much. She
was the kind that even I, confirmed bachelor that I am, would have
considered furnishing up a flat for and being led off, bound willingly
hand and foot, to the altar.

“Now here is a set,” began Doc, leading her over to inspect a real
secondhand outfit, in fairly good condition, though a little old. “You
can pick up the whole United States with this, and possibly some points
in Europe. I’ll guarantee it absolutely, and if you can’t get the Coast
after you’ve had it thirty days you may bring it back to me and I’ll
return your money.”

The girl looked interested.

“How much?” she inquired, glancing over at me in a confidential sort of
way as much as to say, “You won’t let him take advantage of me, will
you?”

I smiled back reassuringly, and thought I detected just the faintest
answering smile.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” said Doc. “I like you somehow, you’re the kind of
person who will boost my business in the neighborhood, so I’ll just let
you have this set for a hundred and nine dollars and fifty cents, which,
you can see, is dirt cheap.”

The girl looked a little surprised.

“Why,” she stammered, in patent confusion, “I couldn’t think of paying
that much for a set; fifty dollars would be my limit.”

Doc looked pained and took out a corn cob pipe and lit it before
replying.

“Well,” he said, at last, “I’d be losing quite a bit if I let you have
it that cheap; but, as I said before, once in a while I make an
‘advertising sale,’ that is, I let some one have a set real cheap
because I think he’s the sort of person who will boost my business in
the neighborhood. Now, if you’ll promise not to tell any one how much
you paid for this set I’ll split the difference between your price and
mine with you, making the total cost of this excellent set, to you, and
to you only, seventy-nine dollars and seventy-five cents; and, at that
price, you’re getting a set below cost.”

Still the girl looked a little doubtful. She glanced over at me, and I
was sure I detected the faintest suggestion of a companionable smile
this time.

“Well,” she hesitated, “may I try it out for a few moments?”

“Certainly,” said Doc, for this tickled him; he considered a customer
seventy-five per cent. sold if he could get them to tuning a set
themselves.

He took the set over on the counter and hooked it up with the immense
aerial he maintained on the roof, and with his fixed ground. Just as the
girl started turning on the lights the door opened again and a young man
came in with a large bundle under his arm.

Silently he placed the bundle upon the counter and started unwrapping
it. When he had finished there stood, exposed to view, one of the finest
little three tube “unnamed circuit” sets I ever saw. It looked as though
it was brand new; one of the sort of sets that was dear to Doc’s heart,
for he often told me that it was much easier to sell a poor set that was
shiny than a good set with the varnish worn off.

“Want to sell you this set,” said the young man airily.

He was that sort of youngster whom clothing manufacturers often use to
drape their wares on in advertising matter. Tall, straight, black shiny
hair as revealed when he suddenly jerked his hat off on observing the
presence of a lady in the place, and clear cut, well chiseled features.

Doc looked at him and then looked over to where the girl, oblivious to
everything was turning the dials on the five tube neutrodyne back and
forth.

“Well,” said Doc grudgingly, addressing the young man, “I can’t give you
very much for this set; you see, it’s an unnamed circuit and--”

“And that’s the best part of it,” interrupted the young man. “Right now
everyone is buying the ‘unnamed circuit,’ and you know it. However, if
that’s the way you feel about it--” He started calmly to wrap up the set
again.

“Well, wait,” interrupted Doc, “I didn’t say how much I’d give you yet,
did I? Never go away without getting the other man’s figures first. How
much do you want for it?”

“How much will you give me?” snapped the young man.

“You’re selling the set,” Doc reminded him.

“Will you give me sixty-five dollars?”

Doc looked pained.

“There’s a law in this city,” he said, “against highway robbery; surely
you don’t want to take advantage of a man of my years? Somebody’s gone
and told you about my soft heart. It’s cost me many a dollar I’ll tell
you!”

Wordlessly the young man started again to wrap up the set

“Wait, wait,” said Doc, hastily. “I’ll give you fifty dollars for it”

“Nothing stirring!” snapped the young man. “I will come down a little
though; I’ll let you have it for fifty-five.”

Doc looked very sad, and I, full knowing that the argument might last
half an hour, summoned up all my courage and walked over to the young
lady, who had thus far been unsuccessful in securing an out of town
station.

“May I help you?” I said, with my heart beating like a trip-hammer in my
breast, frightened to death for fear she might answer frigidly “Sir!”
But she did no such thing.

“Why, that’s very kind of you,” she said graciously, turning a smile
upon me that made me feel quite certain that I could pick up Piccadilly
for her without any trouble. To cover my confusion I turned to the knobs
and started frantically to turn them.

Sure enough, very shortly, came the words “Cocoanut Grove,” and then a
crash of sounds, but I knew I was close to a California station and I
began to feel a little of the excitement which comes when you’re very
near a station like that.

To give himself a chance to think things over, and also for the
psychological effect upon the young man, Doc walked over to where we
stood tuning and took me aside. By this time I had the station almost in
line and I turned the set over to the girl to finish the job, which she
started to do with much interest.

“Listen,” said Doc to me in an impish whisper. “What do you think of
those two? Prettiest girl in the neighborhood and finest looking young
man around here. If I could bring them together I’d give the girl that
five tube set for a wedding present; it would make a peach of an
advertisement for the store, eh, what?”

“Suppose,” I suggested coldly, and with some heat, “that you just attend
to your own business, which is cheating helpless young people who come
in here to buy and sell radio sets.”

Doc looked pained for a moment, then he burst out laughing and slapped
me on the back.

“So that’s the way it is!” he roared. Then, in an aside: “All right, you
know I take the address and phone number of every customer; there may be
a chance for you; hope to goodness there is. She is the kind that would
keep a man from loafing around radio stores at night and casting
aspersions on the proprietors.”

With that he was gone, back over to where the young man stood frowning
at the set he seemingly hated to part with at the price offered. I went
back to the girl’s side, a little bolder now after the effect of my
first effort.

“Perhaps we can get Frisco, too,” I suggested. “Here, I’ll show you how
to go about it.”

With that I took one of her dainty little white hands--it felt as soft
and cool as the petal of a rose--and placed it upon the dial. Putting my
arm around behind her back I took her other hand and placed it upon the
potentiometer.

She colored and laughed prettily, and I colored and trembled
frightfully, but, sure enough, after a moment we began to hear squawks
which sounded like Frisco. Hurriedly I threw the dials out of
adjustment; I had no intention of picking up Frisco so promptly. I
wanted it to be a long-drawn out process.

Presently I heard Doc making the concluding remarks with which he always
wound up a sale or a purchase, and suddenly, at this juncture the girl,
apparently forgetting me, spoke up.

“Well, Dr. Edwards,” she said, “I like this set, but I won’t pay you one
cent over fifty dollars for it.” There was an air of very definite
finality about her remark, and Doc did one of those surprising things
which make it interesting to watch him.

“Sold,” he said, without further quibbling.

I happened to have been in the store the day he bought the set the girl
was taking, and I knew that he had paid forty-five dollars for it, so I
didn’t say anything, as I certainly should have done it he had charged
her too much for it.

“Will you wrap the set up for her?” asked Doc.

“Certainly,” I agreed quickly, “and carry it home for her too if she’ll
let me.”

She blushed and smiled prettily, but answered nothing. Silence is ample
consent, I said to myself. As I finished wrapping the thing up and put
it under my arm Doc was counting out fifty-five dollars to the young
man.

A strange thing happened then. The young man picked up a five dollar
bill and put it in his billfold; the rest of the money he shoved back at
Doc Edwards.

“Why!” breathed Doc. “What’s--what’s the idea?”

“It’s yours,” retorted the young man angrily.

“Mine?”

“Sure,” snapped the young man. “That lady is my wife; I’m paying for her
set. I suppose if we came in here to exchange a three tube for a five
tube set you’d have soaked us about twenty-five dollars to boot. We
heard all about you, you old horse thief, before we came over here; so,
for once, you can consider that you had something put over on you.”

I stood there with my mouth gaping as the young man walked over,
snatched the bundle out from under my arm--and then suddenly another
strange thing happened. I dreamed that I was looking into an immense
loud speaker and that I could see all the stars in the heavenly
firmament at once, and some of them were jumping around playing
leap-frog; acting, in fact, so as almost to bear out Doc’s theory which
I had so often scoffed at.


                               THE END


[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the June 27, 1925 issue of
Argosy All-Story Weekly magazine.]



*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 74145 ***