If it were there might be sound
reasons for recounting the details of his tutelage under Fred Henderson.
No man ever won success without knowing pretty well what he was about.
No one is born with a workable fund of knowledge. It must be acquired.
That, precisely, is what Thompson set out to do in the Groya shop. In
which purpose he was aided, abetted, and diligently coached by Fred
Henderson. The measure of Thompson's success in this endeavor may be
gauged by what young Henderson said casually to his father on a day some
six months later.
"Thompson soaks up mechanical theory and practice as a dry sponge soaks
up water."
"Wasted talent," John P. rumbled. "I suppose you'll have him a wild-eyed
designer before you're through."
"No," Henderson junior observed thoughtfully. "He'll never design. But
he will know design when he sees it. Thompson is learning for a definite
purpose--to sell cars--to make money. Knowing motor cars thoroughly is
incidental to his main object."
John P. cocked his ears.
"Yes," he said. "That so? Better send that young man up to me, Fred."
"I've been expecting that," young Henderson replied. "He's ripe. I wish
you hadn't put that sales bug in his ear to start with.
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