“What is your proposition, Mr. Marrineal?”
Marrineal put his long, delicate fingers together, tip to tip before his face, and appeared to be carefully reckoning them up. About the time when he might reasonably have been expected to have audited the total and found it to be the correct eight with two supplementary thumbs, he ejaculated:
“Coöperation.”
“Between the editorial page and the advertising department?”
“Perhaps I should have said profit-sharing. I propose that in lieu of our present arrangement, based upon a percentage on a circulation which is actually becoming a liability instead of an asset, we should reckon your salary on a basis of the paper’s net earnings.” As Banneker, sitting with thoughtful eyes fixed upon him, made no comment, he added: “To show that I do not underestimate your value to the paper, I propose to pay you fifteen per cent of the net earnings for the next three years. By the way, it won’t be necessary hereafter, for you to give any time to the news or Sunday features.”
“No. You’ve got out of me about all you could on that side,” observed Banneker.
“The policy is established and successful, thanks largely to you. I would be the last to deny it.”
“What do you reckon as my probable income under the proposed arrangement?”
“Of course,” answered the proprietor apologetically, “it would be somewhat reduced this year. If our advertising revenue increases, as it naturally should, your percentage might easily rise above your earnings under the old arrangement.”
“I see,” commented Banneker thoughtfully. “You propose to make it worth my while to walk warily. As the pussy foots it, so to speak.”