Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 42: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

514 He squared off at the mass of correspond- ence on his desk confidently. Business was not so brisk, that pup had said, eh? Where did he hear that? Of course, it had been better, but the city was full of blatant whippersnappers now, shrieking their heads off in wild copy. As soon as they had screamed themselves dumb and the public deaf, conservative advertising would return to its own. Mr. Bennett lunched, well pleased with himself, then decided not to return to the office. He telephoned his secretary, and rode up to Grand Central to see his daughter off, as a little surprise. He felt suddenly lone- some as the train pulled out after their au revoir, He spent the afternoon and evening at the club and retired late. Mr. Bennett was still pleased with the world when he sat down to breakfast. He slitted his personal mail and glanced swift- ly through the bills, but they did not de- press him. He spread the Morning Chron- icle open, ignoring the news articles, but scanning the advertisements closely, turning the pages rapidly, Suddenly he stopped. The upper half page opposite the editorial columns was covered by an arresting display under this line in large capitals: WHAT IS THE ANSWER? Mr. Bennett’s mouth was open as this greeted him, and a spoonful of crisp, cream- flecked cereal was at his lips. Mouth and cereal remained in status quo for thirty seconds, while their owner with widening eves read on: AN OPEN LETTER TO YOU! If you were in love with the loveliest girl on earth, and she smiled on your wooing— Would you let any one keep her from your If her father said “No,” would you give up the girl? Or would you tell him— THE ANSWER IS YES! There was more to it, in the same vein, but what Mr. Bennett had read was quite enough for him. There was no signature at the foot of the crude “ open letter,” no indication of its source, but Mr. Bennett needed no diagram to trace the origin. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. He dropped the paper and the spoon of cereal fell to the table. He closed his mouth, and moistened his dry lips. Red rage surged through his veins for a minute and suddenly was succeeded by a chill. Whether Mr. Bennett rode in subway or cab or drove to his office that morning, he never recalled. He entered the agency with the feeling of a man entering a court room to receive a death sentence—or a woman going to the polls to cast her first ballot. He looked neither to right nor left, but strode like an automaton to his private of- fice. Clinton, general manager of the com- pany, followed him, a copy of the Chronicle flapping from his hand, a smile dividing his fat face as a chord cleaves a circle into segments. “T wanted to speak to you about this ‘Yes’ ad.,” he began, but Mr. Bennett with a bleak gesture stopped him. “And I don’t want to speak to you about it or to any one else. Let me hear no more of that!” The manager withdrew. Mr. Bennett strove to codrdinate his mental processes. There would be more of those advertise- ments of course and doubtless each would be more insulting than its predecessor. No names had been mentioned in the initial blast, but he could trust a pup like Hastings to flaunt names when it seemed necessary. The thing to do was to stop the whole thing and at once. He riffled through the stack of morning and evening papers on his desk. Yes, as he had thought, every one carried the ob- noxious copy, but the Bennett agency busi- ness was worth something to the newspa- pers, too. He pressed the button that sum- moned his secretary, a colorless, cold young woman whom it was said she had never asked a question or failed to obey an order since he had hired her. | ‘Miss Simpson,” said Mr. Bennett, de- liberately, “I want you to telephone the advertising managers of all the morning and evening newspapers and ask them if it is possible to cancel all the advertisements arranged to run under the line ‘ What’s the Answer?’ Tell them it will place me under a great personal obligation to them if it can be done and that I will be glad to compen- comiclooolk CO