was not possible to handle large consignments of any 
perishable fruit or vegetable. Attempts were made in 
this direction now and again, but without much success. 
The cost was too great. Early morning or late night calls 
were made on other houses offering to take over or trans- 
fer, at a loss sometimes, shipments which, if their own 
market had been larger or smaller, could have been handled 
to a nicety. In the main, this was Mr. Henry Water- 
man's business; but he was getting along in years, and 
would gladly have welcomed the hearty co-operation of 
his son, if the latter had been entirely suited to the 
He was not, however. The latter was not as demo- 
cratic, as quick-witted, or as pleased with the work in 
hand as was his father. To a certain extent the busi- 
ness offended him, and if the trade had been event- 
ually left to his care it would have rapidly disappeared. 
His father saw the point, was grieved, was hoping some 
young man would eventuate who would be interested 
in the business, who would handle it in the same spirit 
in which it had been handled, and who would not crowd 
his son out—would, in other words, be content to take 
an interest in the business and work for the latter. 
Then came young Cowperwood, spoken of to him by 
Seneca Davis. He looked him over critically. Yes, this 
boy might do, he thought. There was something full, 
easy, and sufficient about him. He did not appear to 
be in the least flustered or disturbed. Mr. Davis had sent 
him, he said. He knew how to keep books. He knew 
nothing of the details of the grain and commission busi- 
ness. It was interesting to him. He would like to try. 
The boy's eye was so bright, and yet so inscrutable, 
Henry Waterman took to him at once. " I like that fel- 
low," he said to his brother, the moment Frank had gone, 
having been told to report the following morning. "There's 
something to him. He's the cleanest, briskest, most alive 
thing that's walked in here in many a day."