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."