“Came to advise you. Friendly advice.... I’m interested in this paper—er—from the viewpoint of a citizen and—er—financially. Start right, Miss Lee. Start right. Catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.... You commenced with vinegar. Nobody likes it. Can’t make a living with vinegar. To run a paper in Gibeon you must be diplomatic—diplomatic. Can’t expect me to support financially a paper which isn’t diplomatic, can you? Now can you?”
“What do you mean by being diplomatic?”
“Why—er taking advice—yes, taking advice.”
“From whom?”
His little eyes opened round as if in great astonishment.
“From me,” he said. “People in Gibeon—er—repose great confidence in my judgment. Great confidence.”
“What sort of advice?”
“All sorts,” he said, “but principally about what you print about different things.... Now, I should have advised you against printing this young man’s letter.”
“Would you have advised me against printing anything about the threatening note I found on my desk?”
“Ah—sense of humor, miss. Boyish prank.... Jokers in Gibeon. Town’s full of ’em.... Best-natured folks in the world, but they love to joke and to talk. Love to talk better than to joke. Um!... Mountains out of molehills—that’s Gibeon’s specialty. Mean no harm, Lord love you, not a particle—but they’ll tell you anything. Not lying—exactly. Just talk.”