aying for me is utterly wasted."

"Ah!"

"Yes. I can't look in the face of a hungry designer and beat him down to
within a dollar of the cost of materials. And--and--my suggestions upon
broader lines don't seem to cause much hooray."

"Well--" the junior partner sat up--"since you admit----" He paused for
his partner to speak the words of discharge.

But Houghton was looking quizzically at the college man. "What was your
idea as to broader lines?"

Brainard hesitated. "Well, it seemed to me that Pepper is trying to do
two things that are antagonistic: be _'elite'_ and sell chewing-gum. The
fact is that _elite_ people don't chew gum. I'd like to know how the
statement, 'Old Tulu--Best by Test,' will make a kid on the corner with
a cent in his fist have an attack of mouth-watering."

Kaufmann roused himself. "It is true. Our gum _is_ the best."

"I'm not disputing that, but still it's _gum_. If you're trying to
increase the vulgar habit of gum-chewing--well--you can't do it by
advertising the firm's financial standing, its age, or the purity of its
output. That would do for an insurance company or a bank--but _gum_! Who
cares for purity! All they want to know is if it _schmeckt gut_." This
last with a humorous glance at Kaufmann.

The latter was scowling. Brainard was touching a tender spot.

"Well, what would you do?"

Brainard flushed. He felt the tone of sarcasm in the elder man's voice.
He tightened his lips. "At least, I'd change the name of the gum!"

"Change the name!" Kaufmann was horrified.

"Well, nobody wants 'Old Tulu.' They want 'New Tulu' or 'Fresh Tasty
Tulu.' At least, something to appeal to the imagination of
Sadie-at-the-ribbon-counter."

"Oh!" observed Houghton. "And the name you suggest?"

"Well,--say something like 'Lulu Tulu.'"

"Gott!" Kaufmann struck the desk a blow with his fist. It was an insult
to his father's memory.

Brainard rose. "I'm sorry," he said, "if I have offended. To save you
any further bother, I'll just cut it out after Saturday. I--thank you
for the chance"--he smiled a little ruefully--"the chance you have given
me. Good day, gentlemen."

He turned on his heel and left the office.

* * * * *

As John Houghton was driven home that night, he became suddenly
conscious that he would soon meet the apparition of the afternoon in the
flesh. And though, of course, there was no need, he found himself
rehearsing the justification of hi