Meanwhile the other was trying to sum him up. He came to the conclusion that his visitor meant to introduce some new advertising scheme, and, as “The Firefly” was sorely in need of advertisements, he decided to listen.
“Here is last week’s issue,” he said, handing to Spencer a small sixteen-page publication. The American glanced through it rapidly, while the editor sampled the beer.
“I see,” said Spencer, after he had found a column signed “H. W.,” which consisted of paragraphs translated from a German article on airships,—“I see that ‘The Firefly’ scintillates around the Tree of Knowledge.”
The editor relaxed sufficiently to smile. “That is a good description of its weekly flights,” he said.
“You don’t use many cuts?”
“N-no. They are expensive and hard to obtain for such subjects as we favor.”
“Don’t you think it would be a good notion to brighten it up a bit—put in something lively, and more in keeping with the name?”
“I have no opening for new matter, if that is what you mean,” and the editor stiffened again.
“But you have the say-so as to the contents, I suppose?”