so pressing?”
“It’s a question of your portfolio.”
“But I thought my investments were doing quite nicely.”
“On the whole, they are,” Sopwith conceded. “Tangent, show Miss Binks the figures.”
Silently the accountant handed over the green folder, open to a pageful of figures. Winifred scanned it, then nodded to Dr. Svenson. “Satisfactory, on the whole, wouldn’t you say, President?” she said. “But there’s one I want to get rid of right away.”
“Ah yes,” Sopwith replied. “You’re referring, of course, to Golden Apples. You doubtless recall my mentioning to you a while back that the company, while holding steady and continuing to pay a small dividend, hasn’t increased its profits for the past several years. This is a very shaky situation, Miss Binks. I strongly suggest we dump Golden Apples before it takes a nosedive and reinvest the proceeds in a company that offers a more satisfactory return.”
“Indeed?” said Winifred. “And what would you recommend?”
“Well, I’ve given that question a good deal of thought. Considering that Golden Apples is a packer and distributor of what are currently known as—ah—natural foods, and considering the current popular interest in healthful nutrition, I should say we ought to reinvest your proceeds with a similar company in which you already have a relatively small holding. Lackovites is a younger, more aggressive firm which has leaped far ahead of Golden Apples in sales during the past few years. Show Miss Binks the figures on Lackovites, Tangent.”
Wordlessly the accountant opened one of his file folders and handed the heiress a balance sheet on Lackovites. She took a cursory glance and handed it over to Svenson.
“Very impressive, but they fail to show one factor which you also don’t appear to have taken into account, Mr. Sopwith. You mentioned Golden Apples once before. Since then, I’ve done a bit of looking into the matter myself. I find that Golden Apples products are highly regarded by nutritionists as being of exceptional quality and flavor. The company’s packaging, distribution, and advertising leave much to be desired. This seems to be because their rigidly maintained quality standards require them to buy top-quality ingredients that raise their overhead and eat into their profit margin, leaving them without the capital to compete aggressively. The consequence is that while they hold on to their customers, they don’t attract enough new ones.”
“That’s why I—”
“Let me finish, Mr. Sopwith. Lackovites, on the other hand, has superb packaging, extensive advertising, and an extremely aggressive sales force. They’ve been taking advantage of that growing interest in natural foods you mentioned to attract a great many new customers, and they’ve been succeeding so far because people are often too ready to accept ballyhoo as fact. However, the word’s begun to get around that their so-called secret magic ingredients are mainly cornstarch and sawdust. Inferior-grade sawdust, at that.”
“But Miss Binks—”
“In short, Mr. Sopwith, that Lackovites bunch are nothing but a pack of opportunists out to make a killing. They can still attract customers but they can’t keep them because their goods are deplorably bad, and I’m mortally ashamed to have any connection with them. What I want you to do the very first thing Monday morning, Mr. Sopwith, is to dump every share of Lackovites I own before the market starts to fall, and reinvest every penny in Golden Apples.”
“But you can’t do that!”
Winifred drew herself up and looked down her nose like a grand duchess laying out a miscreant footman. “I’d like to know why not.”
“It’s impossible!”
“I think what Mr. Sopwith means, Miss Binks,” Lawyer Debenham interrupted, “is that you pretty much own Golden Apples already. You see, the company has never gone public, which is why you’ve never seen their stock listed anywhere in the reports.
“It’s a question of your portfolio.”
“But I thought my investments were doing quite nicely.”
“On the whole, they are,” Sopwith conceded. “Tangent, show Miss Binks the figures.”
Silently the accountant handed over the green folder, open to a pageful of figures. Winifred scanned it, then nodded to Dr. Svenson. “Satisfactory, on the whole, wouldn’t you say, President?” she said. “But there’s one I want to get rid of right away.”
“Ah yes,” Sopwith replied. “You’re referring, of course, to Golden Apples. You doubtless recall my mentioning to you a while back that the company, while holding steady and continuing to pay a small dividend, hasn’t increased its profits for the past several years. This is a very shaky situation, Miss Binks. I strongly suggest we dump Golden Apples before it takes a nosedive and reinvest the proceeds in a company that offers a more satisfactory return.”
“Indeed?” said Winifred. “And what would you recommend?”
“Well, I’ve given that question a good deal of thought. Considering that Golden Apples is a packer and distributor of what are currently known as—ah—natural foods, and considering the current popular interest in healthful nutrition, I should say we ought to reinvest your proceeds with a similar company in which you already have a relatively small holding. Lackovites is a younger, more aggressive firm which has leaped far ahead of Golden Apples in sales during the past few years. Show Miss Binks the figures on Lackovites, Tangent.”
Wordlessly the accountant opened one of his file folders and handed the heiress a balance sheet on Lackovites. She took a cursory glance and handed it over to Svenson.
“Very impressive, but they fail to show one factor which you also don’t appear to have taken into account, Mr. Sopwith. You mentioned Golden Apples once before. Since then, I’ve done a bit of looking into the matter myself. I find that Golden Apples products are highly regarded by nutritionists as being of exceptional quality and flavor. The company’s packaging, distribution, and advertising leave much to be desired. This seems to be because their rigidly maintained quality standards require them to buy top-quality ingredients that raise their overhead and eat into their profit margin, leaving them without the capital to compete aggressively. The consequence is that while they hold on to their customers, they don’t attract enough new ones.”
“That’s why I—”
“Let me finish, Mr. Sopwith. Lackovites, on the other hand, has superb packaging, extensive advertising, and an extremely aggressive sales force. They’ve been taking advantage of that growing interest in natural foods you mentioned to attract a great many new customers, and they’ve been succeeding so far because people are often too ready to accept ballyhoo as fact. However, the word’s begun to get around that their so-called secret magic ingredients are mainly cornstarch and sawdust. Inferior-grade sawdust, at that.”
“But Miss Binks—”
“In short, Mr. Sopwith, that Lackovites bunch are nothing but a pack of opportunists out to make a killing. They can still attract customers but they can’t keep them because their goods are deplorably bad, and I’m mortally ashamed to have any connection with them. What I want you to do the very first thing Monday morning, Mr. Sopwith, is to dump every share of Lackovites I own before the market starts to fall, and reinvest every penny in Golden Apples.”
“But you can’t do that!”
Winifred drew herself up and looked down her nose like a grand duchess laying out a miscreant footman. “I’d like to know why not.”
“It’s impossible!”
“I think what Mr. Sopwith means, Miss Binks,” Lawyer Debenham interrupted, “is that you pretty much own Golden Apples already. You see, the company has never gone public, which is why you’ve never seen their stock listed anywhere in the reports.
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