"Well, yes and no," I returned with a laugh. "He is connected with the Flaxon Advertising Agency and he does all my advertising, and I like to get the benefits of his ideas."
"Mr. Black," said Bulder, "I am doing this business with you, and while I am sure that Mr. Fellows is a mighty fine man, you could hardly expect me to want to talk this matter over with him—at any rate, with the idea of helping you to decide what to do; for, you see, he is an advertising man and naturally wants to spend all your appropriation himself."
"Fellows isn't that kind," I replied, somewhat curtly.
Bulder saw that he had been tactless, so he put his hand on my shoulder, and said, soothingly:
"That's all right, Mr. Black, I was only joking. Glad to talk the matter over with any friend of yours."
I don't know why it was, but I seemed from that moment to feel a distrust of him. I had rather liked him before. But now he seemed to me too suave, too—oh, too fat and easy about it.
Well, we went into my little office and I introduced him to Fellows.
"Our mutual friend, Mr. Black," said Bulder with a smile, "wants me to talk over with you both the splendid possibilities of his store through the Garter Trading Stamps. Good idea. It shows he is cautious and has good judgment."
"Mr. Black is quite a busy man, you know, Mr. Bulder," Fellows replied, "and perhaps don't have time enough always to think over every angle of a proposition; so he very wisely believes in talking things over and getting an outside viewpoint. Mr. Black can analyze these problems himself just as well as you or I can; but he believes in conserving his time and energies as much as he can."
All this preliminary by-play interested and amused me. But then the real battle began. Imagine those two—that big, burly, good-natured, somewhat bulldozing Bulder, and the shrewd, courteous New Englander, Fellows; Bulder with his heavy, sledge-hammer methods,—the bludgeon method, you might call it,—and Fellows with his keen, sharp, rapier methods.