Sanford assumed the air of a man wearied with tremendous affairs. .
“Very well, what comes first?”
“The New York Budget has wired for an answer in regard to their proposition.”
Sanford blew a luxurious whiff of smoke. “Take this letter: My dear Mr. Ralston. Replying to your inquiries as to whether I would be willing to take charge of the editorial page of the Budget for a few months, to put the paper on its feet, I am willing to consider the matter, and would be pleased to discuss it with you if you will run over to see me. I am very busy just now, and could not possibly undertake the work for some weeks. I have been retained in an advisory capacity by a big Western syndicate which was badly in need of some circulation building; and until I can put their paper up to a half-million figure I have not much spare time. Their paper has gone up a couple of hundred thousand since I mapped out a campaign for them, but I would not feel justified in discontinuing my services to them until these gains are properly consolidated. I will be in my office at ten o'clock next Tuesday morning if you care to see me. Very truly yours.”
Mr. Birdlip was hidden behind his paper, but something in the angle at which the sheets were held led Sanford to believe that the old gentleman was listening.
“Very well, Edwards,” he said. “What's next?”
“Here's this letter from Lord Southpeak of the London Gazette asking if he can see you when he comes over next month.”
“Cable Southpeak I shall be very happy to see him if he gets here before the fifteenth. I am going on my vacation then.”
The attentive Edwards scribbled rapidly in his notebook.
“Just pick out the most urgent stuff,” said Sanford. “I don't care to bother with anything that isn't really pressing. I've got an important conference on in New York to-day, and I want to keep my mind clear. Blackwit of the Associated Press has asked me to say a few words to his directors on 'Journalism as a Function of Public Conscience'.”