“Well?” says I.
“We’ll go to Eagle Center,” says he, “and interview a b-b-bunch of folks, and sort of get ’em to talk about Wicksville. Bet we can f-fix it so’s they make fun of this town. Then,” says he, “there’s that old b-business of the trolley line from the city, which might go through here and m-might go through Eagle Center. What made me think of that was that a s-surveyor got off’n the train to-day, and I asked him what he was up to, and he says he was goin’ over the right of way that was laid out a couple of years ago.”
“Um!” says I. “Sounds promisin’.”
“We’ll t-try it,” says Mark. “Binney, you and I will go over in the m-mornin’.”
So next morning over we went.
I never saw anything so easy. Mark says that folks would rather make fun of somebody or something, whether they’ve got any reason for doing it or not, than to work and make money, and I guess he’s right.
As soon as we began talking about Wicksville they up and sailed into it like they had been waiting for the chance for years. Of course we helped things along by bragging a little and by making a few comparisons that didn’t favor Eagle Center any. But it didn’t take much urging. Why, we could have got enough interviews to fill the paper twice, and any one of them, when they stood out in print, was enough to make the whole population of Wicksville take off its coats and roll up its shirt-sleeves and start right over to give Eagle Center a walloping.
When we had all we wanted we started back for home, and planned out how we’d use it, and the way we planned was the one that would do the most good, you bet.
“Now,” says Mark, “if we just had some sure news about that t-trolley line.”
“We hain’t,” says I.