Mark Tidd, Editor, Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  The first thing that happened was the coming of the Man With the BlackGloves. All of a sudden we looked up and there he was standing in thedoor, squinting at us with his disagreeable eyes. You haven't any ideahow quiet he'd come. One second he wasn't there; the next second therehe was, and no fuss about it at all.

  "Howdy!" says Mark.

  "Proprietor in?" says the man, chopping off his words like he hated touse them at all.

  "I'm one of t-them," says Mark. "What can I do for you?"

  "Liner ad. How much?" He didn't throw in one extra word for goodmeasure. After he was gone Mark says he bet he was stingy as anything.He said he guessed so because he hated to give away the cheapest thingin the world--which is talk.

  "Cent a word," says Mark.

  The Man With the Black Gloves poked out a paper to Mark and says, "Headit 'Personal.'" Then he passed over a quarter and Mark counted the wordsand gave back the change. The man turned and went out as quiet as hecame, not even nodding good-by.

  Mark stood looking after him, and when he was out of ear-shot he turnedto me and said almost in a whisper, "Binney, l-l-look here!"

  Something in his voice made me come quick. I took the paper out of hishand and read what was written on it. It said:

  Jethro: On deck. Report. Center Line Bridge. Eight. G. G. G.

  "Funny kind of an ad.," says I.

  "F-f-funny kind of a man," says Mark. "What d'you make of it?"

  "Nothin'," says I.

  "He's up to somethin'," says Mark.

  "Huh!" says I. "Haven't we got work enough and mysteries enough on handwithout goin' out of our way to find another?"

  "But," says Mark, "this is _s-s-suspicious_."

  "What of it?" says I.

  "Looks to me," says he, "like it was our d-duty as newspaper men tol-l-look into it. May be for the good of the community."

  "Rats!" says I.

  "He hain't plannin' no good," says Mark.

  "Likely he hain't," says I, "but what business is it of ours?"

  "Everything is a newspaper man's b-business," says Mark, "even thingsthat hain't none of his b-business."

  "That sounds crazy," says I.

  "Anyhow," says he, "I'm goin' to f-f-find out what's the meanin' of thisad."

  "Go ahead," says I, "and if you get into trouble don't ask _me_ to pullyou out."

  Mark looked at me and grinned, and I grinned back, for it _was_ funny.Usually the one to get folks out of trouble wasn't me. I was better atgetting them into it. But Mark, why, he made a sort of business ofjerking us out of scrapes we got into!

  "Why," says I, "would a man put in an ad. like that? Why doesn't he gotell this Jethro instead of puttin' it in the paper?"

  "One reason," says Mark, "is because he d-d-don't want to be seen nearwhere this Jethro is stayin'."

  That did sound reasonable.

  "Yes," says Mark, tugging at his ear. "Jethro's expectin' this feller.This Black Glove feller's the boss, it looks to me Jethro's eitherd-doin' somethin' or f-f-findin' out somethin' for Black Gloves, andthis ad. tells him to report. That's easy. He's to do his r-r-reportin'at the Center Line Bridge, and the 'eight' means eight o'clock.... Butwhat d-day?"

  "Why," says I, "the day the paper comes out!"

  "N-no," says Mark. "I f-figger he means _next_ day. By that timeJethro'd have time to get his p-p-paper and see the ad. Most likely he'sbeen told to look for his orders that way."

  "To be sure," says I, and it did seem pretty clear after Mark reasonedit out, but I never would have got that far in six years of digging.

  "So," says Mark, "you and me will be at Center Line Bridge Fridayn-n-night an hour ahead of t-t-time, so's to hide away and overhearwhat's up."

  "And probably git our backs busted," says I.

  "Hain't n-never got 'em b-busted yet," says he.

  "All right, Mark," I says. "Where you go I go, but one of these timesneither one of us'll be comin' back in one piece. No, sir, we'll begettin' scattered all over the county so our folks'll have to gather usup in a basket."

  "B-b-between now and Friday," says Mark, changing the subject, "there'sa n-newspaper to get out. Stop gabblin' and go to work."

  Mark turned around to his desk and went to work. I stood around a minuteand then, not seeing anything special to get at, I asked him what hewanted me to do.

  "Go out and get some advertisin'," says he, and went to work again.

  Get some advertising, says he! I had about as much idea how to getadvertising as I had how to catch eels with my bare hands--and I foundout that advertisements were just about as easy to catch as eels. Yes,and maybe a little harder. If you try to catch an eel, why, he justwriggles away, but if you try to catch an advertisement the man you tryto catch it from is as likely as not to kick you out of his store. Idon't see why ads. aren't catching, like measles or mumps. It would makeit a heap easier for us newspaper men.

  Anyhow, all the business I managed to get was a miserable littleadvertisement from old man Crane, who had started to grow whiskers andwanted to trade a safety razor for a brush and comb. It was a cent aword and there were fifteen words. I didn't see exactly how we weregoing to get rich at that rate.

  While I was on my way back to the office I saw what looked like it wasgoing to be a fight, so I stopped around to watch, but it turned out tobe nothing but a squabble. It was kind of fun, though, even if nobodydid anything but talk and holler. The men mixed up in it were Mr. Pawl,who owned the Emporium Grocery, and Mr. Giddings, who ran the Busy BigMarket.

  When I got there they were just beginning to get started good. Mr. Pawl,who was about five feet and a half tall, was reaching up in the air asfar as he could reach to shake his fist under Mr. Giddings's nose--andMr. Giddings's nose was so high up he couldn't even come near it.

  "You did," says he, hollering as loud as he could yell. "You know youdid, you--you yaller grasshopper. She come right over and told me.'Tain't the first time, neither. But it's goin' to be the last. No mankin say to Missis Petty that the eggs in my store was laid by a hen thatwas sufferin' from ague. No, sir, nobody kin. Sufferin' from ague, saysyou, so that the eggs was addled before they was laid, on account of thehen shakin' and shiverin' so.... That's what you told her, you wab-blin'old bean-pole. Tryin' to drive away my customers, eh? I'll show you."

  "Now, Banty," says Mr. Giddings, calling Mr. Pawl a name that alwaysmade him mad enough to eat a barrel of nails, because he didn't like tohave folks mention his size, "now, Banty, jest keep your feet on theground. 'Tain't a mite worse for me to tell Missis Petty what I told herthan it is for you to tell Missis Green that whenever you grease up yourbuggy you git a pound of my butter 'cause it's better for the purposethan the best axle grease--but hain't good for nothin' else. Rememberthat, don't you, you half-grown toadstool? ... Jest let me tell you,this here slanderin' 's been goin' on long enough, and I'm a-goin' tofight back. I'll give you tit for tat, and don't you forgit it."

  "I'll have the law on you," Mr. Pawl hollered.

  "Law--shucks! I'll take you acrost my knee and spank you," saysGiddings.

  "I won't muss up my hands touchin' you," says Pawl. "'Twouldn't hurt younohow, with your rhinoceros hide. Only way to git you sufferin' is totouch your pocket-book. From now I'm a-goin' after your business, andgoin' after it hard. I'll _bust_ you, that's what I'll do. I'll bust youso's you can't be put together with glue."

  "Two kin play that fiddle," says Mr. Giddings. "In two months therewon't be but one grocery store in Wicksville, and that one'll beGiddings's Busy Big Market. Now run along and sleep on that."

  Giddings walked off, leaving Pawl dancing up and down and making noisesthat didn't have any sense to them. He was so mad he didn't know if hewas a man in Wicksville or a rampaging hyena in the Desert of Sahara.

  I poked along to the office with my little ad. and handed it to Mark,sort of figgerin' maybe he'd be mad because I hadn't got more, but hewasn't, and I might have known he wouldn't be.

  "F-f-fine," says
he. "That's a starter. I didn't really f-f-figger you'dget _any_, first time out. Bet you get to be the best advertisin'-getterin the office."

  Maybe he didn't mean it, and maybe he was saying it just to make me feelgood, but anyhow it was a good idea. If he'd growled and acteddisappointed, most likely it would have taken the heart out of me, sothat next time I'd have done worse. But as it was I felt, somehow, likeI could go out and get a whole basketful of ads. now. That was MarkTidd's way of doing things. He knew how to manage fellows and how to getthe most work out of them. I'll bet you that some day he's one of thebiggest business men there is. I don't mean big just because he's such awhopper, but important.

  I told him about the row between Pawl and Giddings, and he laughed tillthe fat on his cheeks wabbled like a dish of jelly. Then he got soberand began tugging his ear.

  "Come on, Binney," says he.

  "Where?" says I.

  "Out to git some b-b-business," Says he.

  I went following along till he came to Pawl's Emporium and was turningin.

  "Hey," says I, "what you goin' in here for? He's too mad to _sell_things, let alone buyin' advertisin' space."

  "Maybe," says Mark. "Let's try, anyhow."

  So in we went. Mr. Pawl was behind the counter, walking up and down likea wolf in a circus cage, and every little while he would up with hisfist and bang it down with all his might. I guess he imagined he wassmashing Giddings.

  "Come on away from here," says I to Mark. "He may take it into his headto wallop us."

  Mark just grinned.

  "Howdy, Mr. Pawl!" says he.

  Mr. Pawl just glared at him and banged the counter again.

  "I don't b-b-blame you for being mad," says Mark. "I'd be madder 'n youare if it was me."

  "If what was you?" says Mr. Pawl.

  "If a competitor was t-tryin' to get ahead of me like yours is tryin' toget ahead of you."

  "What's he doin' now? What's he doin' now?" Mr. Pawl yelled at the topof his voice.

  "I'll tell you what I _think_ he's goin' to d-d-do," says Mark. "He'sgoin' to go after your customers hard. He's goin' to offer 'emb-bargains, and maybe he'll have somethin' to say about _you_."

  "What d'you mean? How'll he offer bargains? Where'll he say anythin'about me?"

  "I _think_," says Mark, "he's goin' to p-p-put a big advertisement inthe p-p-paper. If he does he'll tell f-f-folks about some whoppin'bargains. And I guess maybe he'll compare his store with yours, and hisb-bargains with yours, and your stuff won't get p-praised much. D'youf-figger it will?"

  "Advertise, will he? Thinks he can git ahead of me, does he? Gospatterin' printer's ink, eh? Well, he better not. I'll have the law onhim, so I will. I'll make him wish his name wasn't Giddings 'fore I'mthrough with him."

  "I know what I'd do if I was you," says Mark.

  "What 'u'd _you_ do?" growled Mr. Pawl.

  "I'd b-b-beat him at his own game," says Mark. "I wouldn't let on If-f-figgered he was goin' to advertise, but I'd advertise myself, andwouldn't I offer b-bargains! I'll bet I'd put things in the paper thatwould start a reg'lar p-p-procession into this store. And if I couldthink of anythin' to say, I guess I'd sort of allude to competitors andtheir way of d-d-doin' business, and such."

  "If I could think of anythin'!" yelled Mr. Pawl. "You bet I kin think ofsomethin'. How big a advertisement d'you figger he'll print?"

  "Prob'ly all of half a p-page," says Mark.

  "I'll have a page, a whole blinged page. I'll show him! That's the waywe do business in the Emporium. No half-pages for us. We go the wholehog when we go.... Now git out of here, you kids. I'm goin' to be busy.I've got to rig up a whole-page ad. for that paper, and I got to do itquick to beat that raker-handle of a Giddings.... When's the paper comeout?"

  "To-morrow," says Mark. "Better get your ad. in this afternoon."

  "You bet I will," says Mr. Pawl, and while we were going out he wasalready writing on it.

  Mark looked at me and grinned. "F-f-funny he didn't kick us out," sayshe.

  "Mark Tidd," says I, "I take off my hat. Talk about grabbin' aopportunity when it's passin'! Well, I guess maybe you didn't grab thisone."

  "You lugged in the opportunity," says Mark, giving me credit like healways does, even though I didn't deserve much of it. "But we hain'tquite through grabbin' yet," says he. "We got to see Mr. Giddings."

  We went catercorner across the street to the Busy Big Market, and therewas Mr. Giddings in the door, with a grin on his face, looking down at acrate of eggs. On the crate he had just stuck a sign, which read:

  These Eggs Were Laid by Hardworking, Honest Hens

  The Oldest Is Under Twenty-Four Hours

  Buy Your Eggs Here--Don't Go Elsewhere Our Competitors' Chickens Have Ague

  Their Eggs Are Scrambled in the Shell

  Mark started in to laugh and nudged me with his elbow.

  "Laugh, you chump," says he, "l-l-laugh."

  So I set in to laughing with all my might. Mr. Giddings looked at us andgrinned.

  "Perty good, eh?" says he.

  "You bet," says Mark, "but I hear tell Mr. Pawl's goin' to have eventhat sign beat."

  "He is, is he?" says Mr. Giddings. "How is he, I'd like to know? Hebetter not start in on anythin'. What's the leetle weasel up to now?"

  "Advertisin'," says Mark. "He's goin' to advertise such b-b-bargains asWicksville 'ain't ever seen before. I got wind of somethin' else, too. Ihear he's goin' to allude to his competitors in his advertisement, andsort of lambaste 'em and their goods."

  "He is, eh? When? How?"

  "To-morrow, in the Wicksville _Trumpet_," says Mark. "He's g-g-goin' tohave a full-page ad., and I'll bet he'll say some mean things in it,too."

  "Think so?" says Mr. Giddings, eager-like. "Well, now, I'll fool thelittle flea. That's what I'll do. I'll have a page ad., too, and if hecan offer better bargains than I do, or say more cuttin' things, thenI'll go out of business. Paper comes out to-morrow, don't it?"

  "Yes," says Mark. "Better have your page in the office this afternoon.It'll have to be set up in a hurry."

  "You bet I will," says Mr. Giddings, "and I'll say things in it so hotyour compositor'll burn his fingers settin' 'em in type."

  We went hustling back to the office and told Tecumseh Androcles Spatthat he had a night's work ahead of him that would come close to taxingeven his ability.

  "What is it?" says he.

  "Two page ads.," says Mark.

  "Huh!" says Tecumseh Androcles. "I'll have them ready. And they will notbe mere ads. They will be works of art. I will bring to the setting ofthem all my skill and knowledge, to say nothing of the genius with whichnature has endowed me. Young sirs, this town will see two page ads. suchas it has never dreamed of."

  "Fine," says Mark, and we went back into the office.

  "I'll bet," says Mark, "that Tecumseh Androcles was right about onet-t-thing. Wicksville hain't ever dreamed of two page advertisementslike those'll be."

  "I only hope," says I, "that there won't be no bloodshed."

  Mark grinned, happy-like. "Business is p-p-pickin' up. Wonder how manypage advertisements Spragg has p-p-picked up for the Eagle Center_Clarion_?"