a one-sided one, but of late the balance
had shifted. At first Good had done the talking and Roger had listened.
Now it was the other way around. That the change was not displeasing to
Good was manifest from the faint smile which played around his lips. He
smoked his pipe gravely and had very little to say. He acquiesced in
everything and made no suggestions.

When matters of a routine nature had been disposed of, Roger leaned back
in his chair and lighted a cigarette.

"I had lunch the other day with Dick Menefee, Corey's new advertising
manager," he said with a reminiscent chuckle. "He was in my class in
college--same society and all that. First thing he asked me was why _The
Dispatch_ was on their blacklist."

"I suppose you told him?"

"With variations. Also I told him one or two things they probably don't
know at Corey's."

"About--?"

"Yes. It interested him because he doesn't cotton to Joe much better
than we do."

"What happened?"

"Well, Dick's an independent sort of a chap, with some fancy ideas of
his own. He couldn't see why they should pass up a chance to sell goods
to our readers just for spite. I tried to explain it to him, but he
didn't seem impressed. He said he was going to stir things up."

"Did he?"

Roger smiled. "Rather! I saw him again yesterday. It seems they had a
most beautiful row. Dick resigned and Faxon threatened to, and Corey
couldn't make up his mind whether he'd fire 'em before they had a chance
to resign. Oh, it was a jolly mess ... but we'll have a contract like
the old one in a day or two!"

"Not really?"

"Big as life. Menefee pointed out to them that while they could use
their advertising appropriation as a club, it was only a stuffed club.
If any paper had sense enough to call the bluff all they could do was to
crawl as gracefully as possible. He raked up a lot of old records and
showed Corey where he was losing cold dollars by staying out of _The
Dispatch_. He said he didn't know what the rest of them were but he was
a business man, and he didn't give a damn what sort of stuff a paper ran
if it sold goods for him. That struck the old man as pretty good sense,
and he refused to accept Dick's resignation. Faxon saw which way the
wind had shifted and reefed his canvas. Anyway ... they're coming back."

"The other stores will follow, I suppose."

"They're bound to," cried Roger. "They're bluffed to a standstill, and
they know it. With Corey's backing down they've go