“I agree with you,” said Mr. Birdlip. “It is all a question of getting the right man. That is one reason why I am so fond of travelling; I always meet up with new ideas. Now, sir (I am sorry I do not know your name, for your face is rather familiar; I think I must have met you at some Rotary club), you seem to me a man of forceful and aggressive character. You are the kind of man I should like to have on the Lens, I heard you mention the paper to your secretary awhile back; you must be interested in it.”
Sanford was perfectly cool. “I might consider it,” he said.
“I think you would find the Lens a pleasant paper to work on,” said Mr. Birdlip. “I flatter myself that the staff is a capable one, for the most part.”
“I should insist on being given a free hand,” said Sanford. “Perhaps the position of circulation manager——?”
“Let me think a moment,” said Mr. Birdlip. “I suppose I ought to visit with my editor-in-chief before firing any one to make room for you. But I must say I like the way you talk, straight from the shoulder, like that Dr. Cranium, you know. That's the sort of stuff we need.”
“Right!” cried Sanford. “If you always talk straight from the shoulder, you'll never talk through your hat.”
Mr. Birdlip relished this impromptu aphorism. “Well, now, let me see,” he said, pondering. “The editor-in-chief, the managing editor, the editorial writers—they're all pretty good men.”
“Of course I shouldn't care for a merely routine position,” said Sanford. “The only position I would consider would be one in which I could really build up circulation for you.” He was wondering inwardly whether to stand out for a ten thousand salary.
“Quite so,” said Mr. Birdlip. “I think I have it. How would you care to run a column? 'Straight From the Shoulder'—wouldn't that be a fine title?”
“Fine!” said Sanford, but not without a secret shudder. Still, he thought, gold can assuage anything; and he reflected on the rich, sedentary, and care-free life of a syndicated philosopher.