“Small. Ridiculously small.” Judge Dana spread out a pair of candid hands. “Mr. Robson, I’m not going to ask that The Guardian oppose the Corporation Control Bill when it comes up.” “Indeed!” “Nor that you’ll support the Blanket Franchise Bill.” “I appreciate your forbearance.” “But The Guardian has professed a profound regard for neutrality.” “As to the war only.” “Neutrality,” repeated the lawyer, “as to the war. Whether you have practiced what you preach is another matter. Some of our most influential citizens and business men--_and_ business men--appear to think not. I don’t know,” he continued with intent, “whether The Guardian’s note for a considerable amount--say, well, twenty thousand dollars--would be considered safe today by the best of our local banks. I say, I don’t know.” “There’s very little you don’t know, isn’t there, Judge?” retorted the editor evenly. “I try to keep informed; I try to keep informed.” The long jaw relaxed a trifle. “Now, Mr. Robson, a reasonable neutrality as to these pending measures would be greatly appreciated by us.” “Appreciation is a vague sort of thing.” “Don’t think you’re going to trap me, young man,” warned the visitor keenly. “I’m not here to make offers. Every man may have his price, but I don’t happen to be fool enough to think that I know yours or could pay it if I did. I want to appeal to your sense of fairness.” Jeremy laughed, not unpleasantly. “Don’t scare me, Judge.” “No. This is plain talk. The P.-U. intends to open up soon its extensive educational campaign of advertising, to instruct the public on these new issues.” “Through the newspapers?” “Through the newspapers. Would The Guardian refuse that advertising?” “I don’t see any reason why it should.” “Very good. Would it accept the advertising and take our money in payment for value received, and then turn about and destroy all the value to us by attacking our arguments editorially?” “Very ingenious,” smiled Jeremy. “But we’ve been over that before, have n’t we?” “Not ingenious. Simple fairness. Is n’t it?” “Maybe it is.” “Then--” “Then it’s quite plain that we can’t take your ads. In other words, Judge Dana, you can’t buy our editorial opinions.” “See, now, how you divert my meaning,” reproached the lawyer. “I’ve distinctly said that all we expected in The Guardian is neutrality.” “You can’t buy our silence, either,” “What’ll you take for The Guardian?” asked the lawyer abruptly. “The Guardian’s not for sale.” “It will be before the year’s end.” “As a prophet you don’t qualify, Judge.”