"With variations. Also I told him one or two things they probably don't know at Corey's."
"About—?"
"Yes. It interested him because he doesn't cotton to Joe much better than we do."
"What happened?"
"Well, Dick's an independent sort of a chap, with some fancy ideas of his own. He couldn't see why they should pass up a chance to sell goods to our readers just for spite. I tried to explain it to him, but he didn't seem impressed. He said he was going to stir things up."
"Did he?"
Roger smiled. "Rather! I saw him again yesterday. It seems they had a most beautiful row. Dick resigned and Faxon threatened to, and Corey couldn't make up his mind whether he'd fire 'em before they had a chance to resign. Oh, it was a jolly mess ... but we'll have a contract like the old one in a day or two!"
"Not really?"
"Big as life. Menefee pointed out to them that while they could use their advertising appropriation as a club, it was only a stuffed club. If any paper had sense enough to call the bluff all they could do was to crawl as gracefully as possible. He raked up a lot of old records and showed Corey where he was losing cold dollars by staying out of The Dispatch. He said he didn't know what the rest of them were but he was a business man, and he didn't give a damn what sort of stuff a paper ran if it sold goods for him. That struck the old man as pretty good sense, and he refused to accept Dick's resignation. Faxon saw which way the wind had shifted and reefed his canvas. Anyway ... they're coming back."
"The other stores will follow, I suppose."