The lawyer shifted his ground. “Is it fair to deny the other side a hearing?”
“That’s where you’ve got me,” admitted Jeremy. “It is n’t. But if I take your ads and then go after you editorially, you’ll claim that we are double-crossing you.”
In fact this is precisely what the ingenious Dana had purposed doing, through the lips of his campaign speakers. But he came back promptly with “The ads are offered without stipulations.”
Jeremy considered. Setting aside the money consideration, the mere appearance of the P.-U. advertising in The Guardian would notably add to the paper’s prestige, as an admission that its advertising pull was essential even to a hostile campaign. He very much wanted that advertising. Picking up a pencil he scribbled a sentence, conned it, amended, elided, copied it fair and full and handed it across to the other.
“Provided that every ad carries this footnote,” he said.
Judge Dana read. “You young hellion!” he murmured, and grinned aslant and ruefully. He repeated the words on the paper. “This paid advertising is submitted and accepted without reference to what may appear upon the subject in the news or advertising columns of The Guardian.”
“All right, is n’t it?” asked Jeremy, in the tone of innocence.
“You young hellion!” said the Judge again, almost affectionately, this time. His double-cross accusation was gone glimmering. “I’ll go you, anyway,” he decided. “Do you want the same footnote on my campaign stuff?”
“No. That’ll speak for itself.”
“Let it speak fair. That’s all I ask. And see here, young man. Twenty years ago is n’t a fair basis to judge a man on.”