Part 8 (2/2)
Maybe he didn't mean it, and maybe he was saying it just to make me feel good, but anyhow it was a good idea. If he'd growled and acted disappointed, most likely it would have taken the heart out of me, so that next time I'd have done worse. But as it was I felt, somehow, like I could go out and get a whole basketful of ads. now. That was Mark Tidd's way of doing things. He knew how to manage fellows and how to get the most work out of them. I'll bet you that some day he's one of the biggest business men there is. I don't mean big just because he's such a whopper, but important.
I told him about the row between Pawl and Giddings, and he laughed till the fat on his cheeks wabbled like a dish of jelly. Then he got sober and 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 turning in.
”Hey,” says I, ”what you goin' in here for? He's too mad to _sell_ things, let alone buyin' advertisin' s.p.a.ce.”
”Maybe,” says Mark. ”Let's try, anyhow.”
So in we went. Mr. Pawl was behind the counter, walking up and down like a wolf in a circus cage, and every little while he would up with his fist and bang it down with all his might. I guess he imagined he was smas.h.i.+ng Giddings.
”Come on away from here,” says I to Mark. ”He may take it into his head to 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 you are if it was me.”
”If what was you?” says Mr. Pawl.
”If a compet.i.tor was t-tryin' to get ahead of me like yours is tryin' to get ahead of you.”
”What's he doin' now? What's he doin' now?” Mr. Pawl yelled at the top of his voice.
”I'll tell you what I _think_ he's goin' to d-d-do,” says Mark. ”He's goin' to go after your customers hard. He's goin' to offer 'em b-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 advertis.e.m.e.nt in the 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 his b-bargains with yours, and your stuff won't get p-praised much. D'you f-figger it will?”
”Advertise, will he? Thinks he can git ahead of me, does he? Go spatterin' printer's ink, eh? Well, he better not. I'll have the law on him, so I will. I'll make him wish his name wasn't Giddings 'fore I'm through 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 I f-f-figgered he was goin' to advertise, but I'd advertise myself, and wouldn't I offer b-bargains! I'll bet I'd put things in the paper that would start a reg'lar p-p-procession into this store. And if I could think of anythin' to say, I guess I'd sort of allude to compet.i.tors and their way of d-d-doin' business, and such.”
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