Since he had evolved a definite plan of going about that, he entered decisively upon the first step.  Upon reaching San Francisco he bearded John P. Henderson in his mahogany den and outlined a scheme which made that worthy gentleman’s eyes widen.  He heard Thompson to an end, however, with a growing twinkle in those same, shrewd, worldly-wise orbs, and at the finish thumped a plump fist on his desk with a force that made the pen-rack jingle.

“Damned if I don’t go you,” he exclaimed.  “I said in the beginning you’d make a salesman, and you’ve made good.  You’ll make good in this.  If you don’t it isn’t for lack of vision—­and nerve.”

“Nerve,” he chuckled over the word.  “You know it isn’t good business for me.  I’ll be losing a valuable man off my staff, and I’ll be taking longer chances than it has ever been my policy to take.  Your only real asset is—­yourself.  That isn’t a negotiable security.”

“Not exactly,” Thompson returned.  “Still in your business you are compelled—­every big business is compelled—­to place implicit trust in certain men.  From a commercial point of view this move of mine should prove even more profitable to you than if I remain on your staff as a salesman—­provided your estimate of me, and my own estimate of myself, is approximately correct.  You must have an outlet for your product.  I will still be making money for you.  In addition I shall be developing a market that will, perhaps before so very long, absorb a tremendous number of cars.”

“Oh, there’s no argument.  I’m committed to the enterprise,” Henderson declared.  “I believe in you, Thompson.  Otherwise I couldn’t see your proposition with a microscope.  Well, I’ll embody the various points in a contract.  Come in this afternoon and sign up.”

As easily as that.  Thompson went down the half-flight of stairs still a trifle incredible over the ease with which he had accomplished a stroke that meant—­oh, well, to his sanguine vision there was no limit.

He felt pretty much as he had felt when he sold his first Groya to an apparently hopeless prospect, elated, a little astonished at his success, brimful of confidence to cope with the next problem.

The ego in him clamored to be about this bigger business.  But that was not possible.  He came back to earth presently with the recollection that the Summits would not be ready for distribution before late October—­and for the next five months the more Groyas he sold the better position he would be in when he went on his own.

So when he finally had in his hands a dealer’s contract covering the Province of British Columbia he put the matter out of his mind—­except for occasional day-dreamings upon it in idle moments—­and gave himself whole-heartedly to serving the house of Henderson.

Time passed uneventfully enough.  June went its way with its brides and flowers.  July drove folk upon vacations to the seaside resorts.