power. We put in a work bench, a lathe, a muffle furnace for heating blades and a few tools and Mr. Nickerson with a helper went to work. I am most pleased to say that I believe Mr. Nickerson by luck or providential design was the only man in the world who could have perfected the razor and our factory today in all its machines and mechanism is testimony of the mechanical genius and resourcefulness of this remarkable man in overcoming obstacles, in arriving at simplicity and efficiency. I could not say too much about William E. Nickerson if I should write this whole article about him alone. The most marvellous fact of this wonderful man is his ability to construct in thought an intricate mechanism with hundreds of parts and many accurately timed movements, without drawing a line on paper until it is completed and operating in his mind, and when the machine materializes it works as he saw it working with his mind’s eye. He did not conceive our present machines in the early days, but he did produce machines and processes during the first year which made the razor a commercial possibility,—but alas, we had spent our $5000 and were in debt nearly $12,000. In fact we were busted and apparently done for. In addition to spending all our money and being $12,000 worse off than nothing, I had in an effort to interest outsiders given away my personal stock until my holdings were down to less than 6000 shares. We all tried to sell treasury stock but could not dispose of a share at any price. Many who had purchased the original blocks had sold out for what they could get, and there was no market.
Up to the end of this first year we had not sold any razors, but a few had been made by Mr. Nickerson and distributed among friends for the purpose of securing an opinion, after they had been used. Among those to whom I had given razors was Mr. John Joyce, whom I had known since I first came to New England, and who had been associated with me in many of my inventions. The reason why Mr. Joyce was not associated with me in the razor at that time was because we had recently been associated together in another invention and he had backed my end and we lost about $40,000, for when we dropped the invention I was owing him $19,700, therefore I did not have the nerve to ask him to go into the razor; but I gave to him 1250 shares of stock—and a razor.
Such was the situation at the end of the year. We were backed up to the wall with our creditors lined up in front waiting for the signal to fire. We had a meeting in Mr. Sachs’ office one morning to consider ways and means, but no one had any suggestions that seemed likely to relieve the situation in time to avoid a receiver, so we broke up with clouds settling down on the business—the end had apparently come. When I left the office with the others I turned my steps to Young's, where I usually lunched, and by chance met Mr. John Joyce, who invited me to dine with him. When we had sat down at the table where we had eaten together hundreds and hundreds of times, in fact nearly every day for years when I happened to be in town, Mr. Joyce said to me, "King, what’s the matter? You look worried." I said, "I am
