“I hope, sir,� said Pierce in a low voice, “that you will not carry sound commercial principles so far as to keep us wondering for a week what it was.�
“Well,� said Oates, “we found we could subject the pigskin and bristles to a new gelat’nous process for making artificial silk, and we figured that publicity would do the rest. We came out with the second set of posters: ‘She Wants it Now.’... ‘The Most Wonderful Woman on Earth is waiting by the Old Fireside, hoping you’ll bring her home a Pig’s Whisper Purse.’�
“A purse!� gasped Hilary.
“I see you’re on the notion,� proceeded the unmoved American. “We called ’em Pig’s Whisper Purses after the smartest and most popular poster we ever had: ‘There was a Lady Loved a Swine.’ You know the nursery rhyme, I guess; featured a slap-up princess whispering in a pig’s ear. I tell you there isn’t a smart woman in the States now that can do without one of our pig-silk purses, and all because it upsets the proverb. Why, see here——�
Hilary Pierce had sprung wildly to his feet with a sort of stagger and clutched at the American’s arm.
“Found! Found!� he cried hysterically. “Oh, sir, I implore you to take the chair! Do, do take the chair!�
“Take the chair!� repeated the astonished millionaire, who was already almost struggling in his grasp. “Really, gentlemen, I hadn’t supposed the proceedings were so formal as to require a chairman, but in any case——�
It could hardly be said, however, that the proceedings were formal. Mr. Hilary Pierce had the appearance of forcibly dragging Mr. Enoch Oates in the direction of the large padded arm-chair, that had always stood empty at the top of the club table, uttering cries which, though incoherent, appeared to be partly apologetic.
“No offence,� he gasped. “Hope no misunderstanding ... Honoris causa ... you, you alone are worthy of that seat ... the club has found its king and justified its title at last.�
Here the Colonel intervened and restored order. Mr. Oates departed in peace; but Mr. Hilary Pierce was still simmering.