“Self-defense, I guess. The Governor is sharpening up his Corporation Control Bill.” “We’ll be for it. The P.-U. advertising won’t make any difference. Montrose Clark ought to know that by this time. If he knows anything,” qualified Jeremy. “Don’t worry about President Puff. He knows a lot of things he did n’t know before The Guardian tackled the job of his education. One of ’em is that the P.-U. is going to need just as much friendship and just as little enmity as it can get when this bill comes up.” “And Clark is going to smooth us down with his advertising, eh?” Andy lifted up his voice in pertinent song: “There was a young man who said, ‘Why Can’t I look in my Ear with my Eye? If I set my mind to it I’m sure I could do it. You never can tell till you try.’ “There’s the P.-U. motto,” he added; “and a noble one it is. ‘You never can tell till you try.’” “Let ’em try somewhere else than in The Guardian.” “Not so, Boss,” argued Galpin. “This bill is rough stuff. It’ll pretty near wipe out the P.-U. They’re entitled to a yell, at least. Even Verrall admits that. And what Verrall won’t swallow whole, when it comes from Mart Embree, must be tough swallowing.” “Verrall wants to make his advertising total as big as possible.” “Being human--although an advertising manager--he does. Well, he’s got no kick coming. Look at the clippings of your young friend and disciple, Mr. Buddy Higman. The Record is nowhere. Respected Sir and Editor, as your correspondents from the cheese district write; we’re making money this year. Real, guaranteed money.” “Enough to take up our note?” “Why worry? The bank does n’t. Old Warrington purrs like a cat every time he meets me. You can read in any witch-book that a banker purring like a cat is a sure sign of prosperity.” “What’s it in your scheme-hatching mind to do with all this prosperity, Andy?” “New press,” returned the general manager, who had been leading up to this point. Pro and con they argued it, the owner finally agreeing. “We really owe it to the advertisers as well as the readers” had been Andy’s best argument. “Look how they’ve stuck.” “They’ve had to,” returned Jeremy grimly. “Half of ’em would have got out at every bump if they had n’t been afraid.” “Well, we’re solid with ’em now. Look what we did to ’em in April. Hiked the rates a clean ten per cent all around. And did they peep?” “They did not. They howled.” “Force of habit again. They all came through, did n’t they? We’re making it pay ’em.” “We’re giving them all the return they’re entitled to,” agreed the editor. “I wish I were as sure that we’re giving the reading public as good.” “Don’t hear many kicks, do you?” “Lots. If I did n’t I’d _know_ we were rotten.”