Martin. (Grunting) Ivory Soap? (He walks up and down while Rodney and Peale exchange gleeful glances. After a considerable pause) Well, thinking things over, why should you and I fight?
Rodney. You began it, father.
Martin. Quite true, and therefore I should be the one to call it off. Now, son, here’s the idea: I’d rather have you with me than against me—the money doesn’t matter much. In your way, while I don’t endorse that kind of publicity, I suppose you boys think your sensational ads are good.
Peale. (Rising) Thank you, sir.
Martin. Not at all. (To Rodney) And if you’re going to have a backer, wouldn’t I be better than the Ivory Soap people?
Rodney. After all, blood is thicker than business. What do you suggest?
Martin. Suppose I buy you out—including your trade-mark and goodwill?
Peale. Oh, you have our goodwill now, sir. (Rises and bows very profusely, then sits)
Rodney. (Reflectively) Buying us out might be expensive for you, father.