If I set my mind to it
I’m sure I could do it.
You never can tell till you try.’
“There’s the P.-U. motto,” he added; “and a noble one it is. ‘You never can tell till you try.’”
“Let ’em try somewhere else than in The Guardian.”
“Not so, Boss,” argued Galpin. “This bill is rough stuff. It’ll pretty near wipe out the P.-U. They’re entitled to a yell, at least. Even Verrall admits that. And what Verrall won’t swallow whole, when it comes from Mart Embree, must be tough swallowing.”
“Verrall wants to make his advertising total as big as possible.”
“Being human—although an advertising manager—he does. Well, he’s got no kick coming. Look at the clippings of your young friend and disciple, Mr. Buddy Higman. The Record is nowhere. Respected Sir and Editor, as your correspondents from the cheese district write; we’re making money this year. Real, guaranteed money.”
“Enough to take up our note?”
“Why worry? The bank does n’t. Old Warrington purrs like a cat every time he meets me. You can read in any witch-book that a banker purring like a cat is a sure sign of prosperity.”