And for every one of a hundred salesmen a separate great sheet was
kept for the record of sales, all marked with the rubber stamp "B.
O.," or the number of a department in red ink. This was called
"crediting," and was done by Miss Wrenn. Finally, Miss Garvey and
Miss Kelly took the now limp bills, and extracted from them
bewildering figures called "the percentages," into the mysteries of
which Susan never dared to penetrate.

This whole involved and intricate system had originated, years
before, in the brain of one of the younger members of the firm,
whose theory was that it would enable everyone concerned to tell "at
a glance" just where the firm stood, just where profits and losses
lay. Theoretically, the idea was sound, and, in the hands of a few
practiced accountants, it might have been practically sound as well.
But the uninterested, untrained girls in Front Office never brought
their work anywhere near a conclusion. Several duplicates on Miss
Thornton's desk were eternally waiting for special prices, several
more, delayed by the non-appearance of invoices, kept Miss Murray
always in arrears, and Susan Brown had a little habit of tucking
away in a desk drawer any duplicate whose extension promised to be
unusually tedious or difficult. Girls were continually going into
innocent gales of mirth because long-lost bills were discovered,
shut in some old ledger, or rushing awe-struck to Miss Thornton with
accounts of others that had been carried away in waste-baskets and
burned.

"Sh-sh! Don't make such a fuss," Miss Thornton would say warningly,
with a glance toward Mr. Brauer's office. "Perhaps he'll never ask
for them!"