Suddenly the young man's quiet, thoughtful demeanour changed. He leaned forward and his jaw hardened. "In other words, when you spend money in advertising with us it's merely a figure of speech. Your advertising appropriation is a sort of slush fund. It's the price you pay for keeping us silent on things you want kept silent. Is that straight?" "I wouldn't put it just that way. But ..." "Well, then, suppose,--just suppose, mind you,--suppose we continue on the line of thought expressed in this article that irritated you people so much this morning, what then?" Faxon leaned forward and his fist came down on the desk with a smash. "Wynrod," he said sharply, "Corey & Company has less than six thousand lines of its contract with _The Dispatch_ remaining. If you continue to attack us in this way, I can inform you that that contract will not be renewed." "I see," said Roger quietly. "Furthermore," added Faxon in the same hard tone, "the contract you now hold with Brooks, Carpenter, Weinstein, LeVigne and all the other members of the department store association, will not be renewed as they expire." "I see. And if orders are given not to run anything more along this line, what then?" Faxon smiled. "In that case I can inform you that the pleasant relations that have hitherto existed between _The Dispatch_ and the large stores of this city, will continue as before." "You tempt me, Joe," said Wynrod in what was little more than a whisper, but with an inscrutable look in his eyes. Then he turned and walked to the window. A faint smile of triumph flitted over Faxon's features as he watched the young man's back. Suddenly Wynrod turned around. "Joe," he said, very calmly but very firmly, "you've been frank with me, and now I'll be the same with you. There are at least half a dozen reasons why I would like to tell you to go to hell, but there's only one necessary. If there was anything needed to stiffen my backbone, it's supplied by the fact that you can come here attempting to give me orders. That won't go, Joe. You came here this morning and insisted on seeing me because you thought you could bully me. That's why you wouldn't talk to Jenkins or Good. But you haven't sized me up right, Joe, and you'd better run back to Corey just as fast as you can and tell him so." The triumphant smile faded from Faxon's face and it slowly reddened. "That means ..." "Anything you choose to make it," said Roger quietly.