“Yes, but we’ve sold five pounds already and we don’t want to have to order oftener than a week. The way they pack it, it keeps fresh for a long time. Maybe it would be a good idea to put in a few pound boxes of a better grade. Guess I’d better go around to the cigar folks now and get a couple more boxes. What was that brand that Mr. Adams mentioned?”
“Mister Dyler, or something like that,” answered Jack. “I didn’t get it.”
“Neither did I. But I guess they’ll know what I’m after. And we ought to have some more magazines, I suppose, if only for show. It’s most time for the March numbers to come out, though, and we don’t want to overstock on the February. I’ll telephone to the news company and ask them to send a half-dozen with the out-of-town papers. I’d better hurry, too, or they’ll be here. Where is the nearest telephone? Look here, Jack, Mr. Adams ought to have a public booth down here in the lobby.”
“That’s so. It would be sort of handy for us, wouldn’t it? Do you suppose he would if we asked him?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not afraid to ask. Maybe, though, we could afford one of our own.”
“At thirty-six dollars a year? You must be crazy!”
“Is that what it costs? How about a two-party line? Or——” Joe stopped and regarded his partner thoughtfully.
“Out with it!” demanded Jack.
“Why couldn’t we have a public ’phone—one of those drop-a-nickel affairs, you know, and set it here by the wall? I wouldn’t be surprised if we made enough to get our own calls for nothing.”
“We might,” agreed Jack hesitantly. “How much would we have to pay the telephone company?”