“Some—some.”
“Then let me advertise that for a week you will sell your twelve-dollar pictures for ten. The advertisement will cost five dollars. If my advertisement brings you enough business so your profit will be double that amount, you are to pay for the ad. If it is less, you needn’t pay.... But if it does bring in so many customers, you must agree to run your ad every week for three months.... Now, I—I dare you to take a chance.”
Now there was one thing upon which Lancelot Bangs prided himself, and that was his willingness to take a chance. He had been known to play cards for money, and the horse races of the vicinity might always count upon him as a patron. Beside that, he had a natural wish to impress favorably this very pretty girl whose manner and clothes and bearing coincided with his ideal of a “lady.”
“I’ll jest go you once,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, and was turning toward the door when Lancelot arrested her.
“Er—I wonder if I could get your opinion?” he said. “You come from where folks know what’s what.... This suit, now.” He turned completely around so she might view it from all sides. “How does it stand up alongside the best dressers where you come from?”
“It—it is very impressive, Mr. Bangs.”
“Kind of figgered it would be. Had it made to order. Got a reputation to keep up, even though there’s them that tries to undermine it. Folks calls me the best-dressed man in Gibeon, and I feel it’s my duty to live up to it.... Well, I ain’t vain. Jest kind of public duty. Now George, he’s set out to be the best-dressed man, and so’s Luke. That’s why I got this suit and this shirt and tie. I aim to show ’em.”
“I should say you were doing it,” said Carmel. “And who are Luke and George?”
“George Bogardus is the undertaker, and Luke Smiley clerks in the bank.”