Why not call it 'world-beating,' or--"
"Now you're talking sense!" interrupted Barrifield. "That's better than
a dictionary. 'The great, world-beating "Whole Family" watch!
Stem-winding and -setting! Full-jeweled! Diamond balance! Eighteen--'"
"Hold on, Barry; I can't get it down."
Perner was scribbling rapidly. "And what does 'diamond balance' mean?"
"Never mind what it means. It sounds rich, and that's what we want."
"Don't you think we ought to have in something about the escapement?"
asked Livingstone. "All watches have escapements, don't they?"
"Why, yes," nodded Van Dorn,--"cylinder escapement--duplex action--"
Perner interrupted:
"Oh, nonsense, Van! It's the camera that has duplex action."
"'Tisn't, either--it's the watch!"
"Oh, well, let's give it to the camera, anyway," compromised Barrifield.
"We've got enough for the watch. How does it read now, Perny?"
Perner added a few more lines to what he had already written, then,
leaning back in his chair, read slowly and with emphasis:
"OUR MAGNIFICENT PREMIUM OFFERS
"In addition to giving you our superb paper at the
unheard-of price of ONE DOLLAR A YEAR FOR FIFTY-TWO ISSUES,
we make to the _entire world_ the following supreme premium
offers:
"I think," Perner paused to comment, "that that goes a few degrees
better than Frisby. Here's what he says."
He picked up a copy of a paper that gave evidence of having had much
careful reading and even commentary study.
"Never mind Frisby," objected Van Dorn. "We know that by heart. Let's
hear what you say."
"All right," cheerfully assented Perner.
"OFFER NO. 1
"Our splendid paper, 'The Whole Family,' for one year,
fifty-two issues, and our great world-beating, stem-winding
and -setting, cylinder-escapement, diamond-balance,
crown-jeweled watch! Worth, both together, five dollars in
gold! Given by us, until present limited quantity is
exhausted, for the mere ridiculous bagatelle of
"ONE DOLLAR!
"and twenty-five cents to pay for postage and packing."
Perner paused and caught his breath. Then he added:
"The last line, of course, will be in small type, so it won't seem to
count. It's the dollar that will catch them. And what do you think of
'crown-jeweled'? Wasn't that an inspiration? You see, 'full-jeweled'
means a certain number, and we don't want to deceive anybody, while
'crown-jeweled' means just jewels, because any kind of jewels are
suitable for a crown."
Perner regarded them triumphantly. Barrifield and Livingstone murmured
assent.
"Yes, that was a great stroke," agreed Van Dorn; "but I object to the
'mere ridiculous bagatelle.'"
Perner looked injured. It was evident that he valued this form.
"You see, they'll think it means another premium--something they don't
get," Van Dorn continued.
"Yes; sounds like a game I used to have," suggested Livingstone.
Barrifield nodded dreamily, while Perner scratched out the offending
words.
"You fellows are such good hands to find fault with what I do," he
complained, "why don't you do something yourselves?"
"Give me the pencil and paper, then," commanded Van Dorn. Perner
surrendered the articles with dignity, and for some moments the artist
wrote busily.
"Now," he exclaimed at last, "how does this sound?
"OFFER NO. 2
"Paper, same as you had, Perny, and
"our marvelous cracker-jack, kodak, double-rack, swing-back
camera--"
"Bully!" shouted Livingstone, "that's a regular college yell!"
"Of course--that's what we want!" Van Dorn acknowledged eagerly.
"That'll make every college boy want one!"
Perner assented, but he did not look altogether happy. Perhaps he felt
that he had been defeated by a maker of pictures in what was properly a
literary undertaking.
"Now let Barry and Stony do the gun and the Bible," he said wearily.
"I'm tired."
The door opened just then, and Colonel Hazard entered. In spite of his
disreputable clothing, he possessed considerable dignity and a manner
calculated to inspire in those about him something akin to confidence.
It was, perhaps, this very quality that had been from time to time the
downfall of himself and others. The stream of Pactolus had flowed often
at his touch, though only to waste its golden waters in treacherous
sands and unseen pitfalls. Nevertheless, he had retained what was even
more precious--hope and unfailing good nature. It is true Bates had
provoked him to wrath, but then, Bates's manner had been exceptional.
"You're just the man we want to see, Colonel," called Van Dorn, as he
entered.
"We're getting up our ads. Come and help us."
The Colonel was always willing and courteous. He cleared his throat and
came forward smiling.
"Certainly, gentlemen. I think I may really be able to assist you
somewhat. When I was business manager of the 'Family Post' in its palmy
days I always arranged my own advertising copy. I remember once of
running the circulation up something like two hundred thousand on a
single feature I introduced. Also, when I was editor-in-chief of the
'Saturday Globe' they often came to me for such things. It is quite an
art, I assure you. May I be allowed to consider what you have already
done?"
The work, so far as completed, was exhibited and read aloud for his
delectation.
"Very good, gentlemen, very good indeed," he assented, when they had
finished. "You have also made careful selection, no doubt, of the
periodicals in which these advertisements are to appear. A great deal
depends on the choice of proper mediums. For instance, you would not
wish to offer the gun in a ladies' journal, nor, from a business
standpoint, the Bible in a sportsmen's magazine, however commendable
such a course might appear from a moral point of view. You see,
gentlemen, I speak from long and dearly bought experience, and these
matters are worth considering."
"But Bates attends to all that," said Perner. "He knows the best places
to advertise better than we do, and can get better prices. Wouldn't you
think so?"
The face of the Colonel grew almost stern.
"I do not wish, gentlemen, to interfere in any of your plans," he said
with some dignity, "and you must excuse me if I do not coincide with
your opinions concerning my colleague, Mr. Joseph Bates. He impresses me
as merely a boasting, unscrupulous fellow when he is sober, and a
maudlin Ananias when he's intoxicated. In neither condition do I
consider him trustworthy."
"By gad! nor I, either!" declared Livingstone.
"Oh, come, now," protested Barrifield, laughing lazily. "You fellows are
down on Bates because he drinks. Why, some of the smartest men we ever
had in this country were the hardest drinkers."
"Rather in spite of it than because of it, however, I fancy," smiled the
Colonel. "If I were employing men I should hardly regard inebriety as an
evidence of either superior intelligence or moral integrity. Personally,
I have no respect for my colleague,--no respect whatever,--though, as
long as he remains such, I shall treat him with the courtesy due to his
position."
There was something about the Colonel's manner that commanded sufficient
respect for himself to prevent the laughter which his appearance and
remarks might otherwise have encouraged. With his assistance the
proprietors of the "Whole Family" proceeded with the descriptions of the
gun and the Bible. They had finished and Colonel Hazard had arisen to go
when Bates himself entered. He was unsteady on his feet, and paused for
a moment to regard the Colonel with drunken scorn. Then he made a motion
toward a chair, lurched heavily, barely saved himself by grasping the
table, and stood swaying like an inverted pendulum. The Colonel
hesitated for an instant, then with a deft motion he pushed a chair
behind the oscillating figure.
"Allow me, Mr. Bates. Good evening, gentlemen." And with a stately bow
he passed out just as the helpless Bates sank into the chair thus
thoughtfully provided by his enemy, and was saved. Once in the chair, he
partially recovered and found speech.
"No r'spect f'r that chap!" he said thickly, shaking his head, "no
r'spect wh'tever. He's 'n old stuff--'at's w'at he is--no r'spect
wh'tever."
"Oh, come, Bates, brace up! If it hadn't been for the Colonel you'd have
been on the floor! Brace up, now; we want to talk business!"
Perner spoke sharply, and it had the effect of bringing the solicitor
partly to his senses. The proprietors of the "Whole Family" had been
indulgent heretofore--even submissive; he could not afford to disturb
these conditions--not yet. Barrifield and Van Dorn also regarded him
severely. Livingstone, disgusted, walked over to the window and looked
down on the street.
"We have been getting up our ads," continued Perner, "and we want them
placed right away. We've left the selection of the places to you, but if
you're going to attend to it you've got to brace up and answer some
questions. What we want to know is whether this advertising is going to
pay us--pay right away, I mean--so enough returns will come in to cover
the investment as soon as it's out."
The effect of this on Bates was certainly remarkable. By the time Perner
had finished speaking, except for a slightly heavy look in his eyes and
a trifling uncertainty as to consonants, you could hardly have told he
had been drinking.
"Gen'lemen," he said with great conviction, "there is no question about
it. I've been in the adve'tising business ten years, an' I know what I'm
talkin' about. You've got a beautiful paper, gen'lemen, beautiful. I sat
up t'll one o'clock las' night reading it. All it wan's is adve'tising.
No question about it, gen'lemen."
Barrifield looked across triumphantly at Van Dorn. Bates was all right
when it came to business. They read him the advertisements, of which he
approved heartily. Later, he began telling them of some vast sum
appropriated by an artificial food company for advertising purposes and
of which he would secure for them a handsome slice.
Perner listened a moment; then he drew a paper from his pocket.
"Oh, by the way, Bates," he asked, "what does this mean? This contract
you left here last night reads, 'Two lines, two insertions, for two
dollars.' What does that mean?"
Bates stared a moment; then he took the paper and pretended to examine
it very carefully. A moment later he chuckled.
"Why, yes," he owned, "that's so. I never noticed that b'fore. S'pose I
got to writin' twos an' couldn't stop. Should have been 'forty' in the
blank b'fore 'dollars.' Have it fixed t'-morrow."
He pocketed the contract and rose to go. Barrifield and Perner again
looked across at each other with satisfaction. Bates took a step toward
the door. Then it was observed that his self-control had been but
temporary, or perhaps had not extended to his legs. He staggered,
reached for the knob, missed, and plunged helplessly into the corner in
a heap. They helped him up, brushed him, and steadied him down-stairs.
As they came back to the studio Van Dorn remarked disgustedly:
"Well, smart men that drink, or no smart men, I wouldn't hire another
man like that."
"But wasn't it wonderful how he braced up when it came to talking
business?" insisted Barrifield.
"Yes; he's all right on business," agreed Perner; "but I am with Van on
the drink question."
"I'm with the Colonel," said Livingstone.
XII
A LETTER FROM MISS DOROTHY CASTLE OF CLEVELAND TO MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE
OF NEW YORK
"MY DEAR TRUE: Your last letter, and package containing
'dummy' of the first issue of the 'Whole Family,' so far as
complete, came last night. I have read every word in it--the
'Whole Family,' I mean (and your letter, too, of
course)--over and over. I think it splendid (both splendid).
The stories and drawings are all of the very highest order,
if I am any judge, and the 'make-up' and all beautiful. (I
am talking of the paper this time.) There is a little
typographical error on the fourth page,--in the second
column, just below the first paragraph,--but I know Perny
will find that before you go to press. Of course, I think
your drawings are the best, but Van's are fine, too. I think
all of you ought to be proud of such a beautiful first
issue, and I am sure you will be able to keep up the
standard, for, as Barry told Perny, it will go like
clockwork when you get to going.
"You mustn't get discouraged, True. Your letters, lately,
have been rather blue sometimes, and I know just how you
feel. But, whatever you do, stick it out to the end. Don't
think for a moment of giving it up; don't do it, True, after
putting in as much thought and time and money as you have
already. For, after all, as you once said, True, money is a
great thing,--a lot of money,--you can do so much with it;
and now, when we are almost at the turn of the tide, is the
very time to pull hardest and get over the bar. Even if it
takes every cent you can scrape together to pay you through,
put it in, and if it takes more than that I can buy a share
and put in a little, too, for I have five hundred dollars
that papa gave me last August when I was twenty-one, and I
will have five hundred more soon, because I am not going
away at all this summer, and papa is going to give me, in
money, what it would cost.
"I thought of going at first, and then I kept putting it off
from week to week, and remembered you working away there in
the heat for me, and I made up my mind at last that I
wouldn't go, either. Besides, our home is cool and
beautiful, and I am alone, and can do as I please, and not
have to dress and go and be torn to pieces. Next summer we
will go together.
"So you see, True, I will have a thousand dollars of my own,
and if your assessments take more than you have I will send
it to you, and you can invest it for me. I had intended to
buy things for our house with it, but we won't need it by
that time, and the success of the paper now is the
all-important thing. I did not care so much at first, but
now it has gone along so well, and with all the new plans
and such a beautiful paper as you can get up, I want to see
it make the success and fortune for you that I am sure it
must. Besides, True, won't it be fine to own our interest
together?
"I know, of course, that there are many unpleasant things
about it,--some, I suspect, that you don't tell me of,--and
that it isn't altogether the money that bothers you; but you
must put up with the burden and suspense a little longer,
and with Bates, who must be a dreadful nuisance, though he
surely means well and works hard to get so much advertising.
I should love to meet the Colonel. The first little sketch
you sent me of him I have pinned up over my desk, and when I
read your letters about him I look up at it and laugh and
imagine just how he looks and acts. What a beautiful model
he must make for the picture, and how glad I am you are
working at it so enthusiastically again! Perhaps that is one
reason why you are less interested in the paper, and worried
over the annoyances that must always come with the more
practical pursuits of life.
"You see, True, I think a good deal about all these things,
and I realized even from the first that a nature like yours
is not at all suited to hard and shrewd commercial
enterprise, though this is not quite that, either, and the
hard days will soon be over. Work right along on the
picture, True, but don't think of giving up your interest in
the paper. The picture will rest and comfort you now, and
the paper will furnish the means of rest and comfort by and
by. Then, when that time comes, perhaps I shall be able to
add happiness to your life, too, and together in our
beautiful home we will add happiness to the lives of others.
Good-by, True. Stick fast, and remember that I am
"Always your
"DOROTHY.
"P.S. True, I can send the money any time, and you must let
me do it if you find it will be needed. I do not offer it as
assistance, but _claim the opportunity of investment_.
"DORRY."
XIII
THE HOUR OF DARK FOREBODING
With the first days of September the tension became more severe. Bills
sprang up from every quarter like mushrooms, and while no one of them
was very large the accumulation was considerable. The humors of the
enterprise were not altogether lost sight of, however, and still
furnished some relief, though there was a manifest touch of bitterness
in many of their whimsicalities. There were moments of individual doubt
and discouragement also--not as to the final outcome, but as to their
ability to exist until such time as the crumbs which they were sowing so
lavishly upon the outgoing waters should return in good brown loaves.
Indeed, these were likely to be needed presently, for they were
economizing at every point, and the dairy lunch and cheap table-d'hote
places served most frequently their needs. There were no more
go-as-you-please dinners, and those of the past were remembered with
fondness and referred to with respect.
It may have been that this system of diet resulted in clearer mental
vision, or it may have been that Perner's early business training really
manifested itself feebly at last, and set him to thinking logically.
Whatever it was, he suddenly came out of his den into the studio, one
afternoon, looking rather pale and startled. He had been through a hard
day with printers and engravers, as well as voracious collectors, whose
bills had an almost universal habit of error on the wrong side. The
others knew the conditions and did not suspect anything unusual when he
flung himself down on the Turkish couch and stared up at the skylight.
Then at last he said:
"Boys, it's a failure. It won't work!"
The others looked around quickly.
"What is it? What's a failure?" They spoke together.
"The 'cash for names'; it's a fallacy."
"How? Why? Won't they do it?" This from Van Dorn.
"Oh, yes; _they_ may, and will, probably; but _we_ won't!"
"Oh, pshaw! Perny, what are you talking about?"
Van Dorn was becoming a little impatient--it was his scheme. Perner rose
to a sitting position on the couch.
"Why, look!" said he. "We send the paper free for two weeks to each of
the twenty names sent by each subscriber. That's forty papers free for
every subscriber that comes."
"Of course," admitted Livingstone; "but some of those twenty names--most
of them--will subscribe."
"Certainly; and each one that does so will send twenty more names, which
means forty more free papers--forty papers besides the fifty-two they
are to receive afterward, or ninety-two papers in all. Ninety-two
papers will cost us, mailed, something like seventy-five cents; the
premium will cost us at least fifty cents more, even where we charge for
postage and packing. Then there is the twenty-five cents cash we pay to
the sender of names. Total, one dollar and fifty cents outlay, for which
we receive one dollar cash in return."
Perner looked steadily first at Livingstone, then at Van Dorn. Neither
of them answered for a moment, and both became a trifle grave. Then Van
Dorn said:
"But the advertising, Perny--you forget that. Even if we do lose money
on subscriptions the first few months, we can afford it for the sake of
a subscription list that will swell the advertising returns."
"By gad, yes," said Livingstone. "That's so--the advertising!"
Perner lay back on the couch wearily.
"Yes," he admitted; "the advertising ought to help. I keep forgetting
that. I wish Bates would make a statement, though, of just what he's
done in that line. He talks enough and seems to be getting along. He's
kept pretty straight lately, too."
"Why don't you call on him for a statement?" asked Livingstone.
"Well, I have meant to, but he's so peculiar, you know, and I didn't
want to offend him."
"No; of course, we can't afford to do that now," Van Dorn agreed. "We're
under obligations to Bates for placing our advertising with Jackson. I
don't believe anybody else would have taken it without money down. Bates
having worked there once is the reason he did it."
Livingstone was painting on his picture of the bread line.
"I've a mind to make one of these fellows look like Bates," he laughed,
"out of gratitude."
"Do it," urged Perner. "He'll be there some day if he keeps on
drinking."
"How much advertising did we take, in all?" asked Van Dorn, presently.
Perner went somewhat into detail in his reply:
"Well, you see, we made the 'Sunday-School Union' a page instead of a
half-page so we could get in the big cut of the Bible, and we took a
half-page instead of a quarter in 'Boy's Own' so's to get in the gun and
the camera, with a small cut of the watch. Then we took a page each in
two school papers to get in the gun and Bible both, and the small cuts
of the watch and camera. All these, of course, are in addition to what
we had counted on before. It amounts to about thirteen hundred dollars
in all."
There were some moments of silence after this statement. None of them
had any superstition concerning this particular number of hundreds, and
the amount was pitifully small compared to the figures they had used
from time to time so recklessly in estimating their returns. For some
unexplained reason, however, the sudden reality of the sum, and the dead
certainty that this was not a mirage of champagne or a fancy of smoke,
but a hard, cold fact that had to be met with money, caused the two
listeners to have a cold, sinking sensation in stomachs that were none
too full. Van Dorn was first to recover. He said with weak cheerfulness:
"Oh, well, it isn't a third what Frisby took, and he didn't have a
dollar."
"Sure enough!" rejoiced Livingstone. "Lucky we don't have to pay it now
though." There was another period of silence; then he added, "What time
is it getting to be, Perny?"
As there was no immediate answer to this, Livingstone wheeled half-way
around from his easel for the reply, and saw Perner studying somewhat
solemnly the dial of one of the fat "Whole Family" watches. Perner
usually carried a rather elegant gold time-piece, a memory of his
business career, and the only one in the party. Livingstone was about to
comment on its absence, but was restrained by a sudden delicacy.
Perner's watch might be out for repairs, or he might be wearing this
ridiculous affair out of loyalty to the paper; but these were troublous
times, and there was the possibility of still another solution of the
matter.
"Five o'clock," decided Perner, at last, "lacking four minutes. I
suppose I'm through with the leeches for to-day."
The words were barely uttered when the door opened and a boy entered
with bills in one hand and a letter in the other.
"I spoke a little too soon, it seems," Perner concluded, taking the
envelop which the boy had extended uncertainly toward each of them in
turn.
The envelop contained a brief communication--also a bill. Perner held
the latter in his hand while he ran his eye hastily over the former.
Then he glanced at the amount of the bill, and Van Dorn, who was
watching him, saw that he was rather white. He turned to the boy quite
carelessly, however.
"You may leave these. We will attend to them to-morrow." Then, as the
collector vanished, he looked up at Van Dorn with, "It's the bill for
the advertising. We are to pay before it goes in."
Van Dorn half rose to his feet. Livingstone gasped.
"Listen," said Perner, and he read the letter to them:
"OFFICE OF JACKSON & MARSH, ETC.
"NEW YORK, September 2, 1897.
"_Publishers of the 'Whole Family,' New York._
"GENTLEMEN: We hand you herewith net bill of your
advertising, cash discount being taken off as per your
instructions through Mr. Bates. Upon receipt of your check
for the amount we will give our final O. K. to the various
periodicals, most of which are now ready for the press. With
thanks for your order, we ask, therefore, that you kindly be
very prompt, and greatly oblige,
"Yours, etc.,
"JACKSON & MARSH.
"Per C."
Perner looked up from the letter at Van Dorn. The artist regarded him a
full minute in silence. Then he said huskily:
"Don't that beat hell?"
"It does," groaned Livingstone. "Bully for Bates!"
XIV
A LETTER FROM MR. TRUMAN LIVINGSTONE OF NEW YORK TO MISS DOROTHY CASTLE
OF CLEVELAND