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Updated: June 8, 2025
That 'spiel' of mine is the best high-pitch in the business." "High-pitch?" "High-pitching," explained the quack, "is our term for the talk, the patter. You can sell sugar pills to raise the dead with a good-enough high-pitch. I've done it myself pretty near. With a voice like mine, it's a shame to drop it. But I'm getting tired. And Boyee ought to have schooling.
Now, if I can get a good rate from you, it's a go." "Mr. Shearson, the advertising manager, is your man. I don't know anything about advertising rates." "Then you'd best get busy and learn," cried Dr. Surtaine. "I'm learning other things." "For instance?" "What news is and isn't." "Look here, Boyee." Dr. Surtaine's voice was surcharged with a disappointed earnestness. "Put yourself right on this.
"Libel, eh?" continued the genius of Certina, quietly but formidably. "We'll teach him a few things about libel, before he's through. Here's my proposition, Boyee. You can fight Pierce, but you can't fight all Worthington. Every enemy you make for the 'Clarion' becomes an ally of Pierce. Quit all these other campaigns. Stop roasting the business men and advertisers.
And to think what has grown out of it. God, Boyee! It's a miracle," he exulted. "It isn't very clear in my memory. I used to get pretty sleepy, I remember," said the son, smiling. "Poor Boyee! Sometimes I hated the life, for you. But there was nobody to leave you with; and you were all I had. Anyway, it's turned out well, hasn't it?" "That remains to be seen for me, doesn't it?
"You owe me a commission, Boyee," said he, smiling at Hal as McQuiggan made his exit. "But I'll let you off this time. I guess it won't be the last business I bring in to you. Only, don't you and Ellis go looking every gift horse too hard in the teeth. You might get bit." "Shut your eyes and swallow it and ask no questions, if it's good, eh, Doctor?" said McGuire Ellis.
"That fellow's getting the big-head." Hal made no reply. He had dropped into a chair and now sat with his head between his hands. When he raised his face it was haggard as if with famine. "Dad, I'm going away." "Where?" demanded his father, startled. "Anywhere, away from this house." "No wonder you're shaken, Boyee," said the other soothingly. "We'll talk about it in the morning.
He ascribed Hal's unease and preoccupation to a more definite cause. Sedulous in everything which concerned his "Boyee," he had learned something of the affair with Esmé Elliot, and had surmised distressfully how hard the blow had been: but what worried him much more were rumors connecting Hal's name with Milly Neal. Several people had seen the two on the day of the road-house adventure.
"If there's any question of honor to the 'Clarion, it's to tell the truth plainly and take the consequences." "Who said anything about the 'Clarion's' honor? This is between you and me." "You'll have to speak more plainly," said Hal with a dawning dread. "Boyee, I hate to do this, but I've got to, to save the city.
The father's rich voice dropped to a murmur. "Hasn't it cost you something more than money, already, Boyee? I understand Miss Esmé is a pretty warm friend of Pierce's girl." Hal winced. "All right, Boyee. I don't want to pry. But lots of things come quietly to the old man's ear. You've got a right to your secrets." "It isn't any secret, Dad.
"Don't want to match? Then I suppose I've got to fight you for him," sighed the editor. The big man laughed whole-heartedly. "Not a chance, my friend! Not a chance on earth. I don't believe even a woman could come between Hal and me, let alone a man." "Or a principle?" "Ah ah! Dealing in abstractions again. Look out for this fellow, Boyee," he called jovially as Hal came back to his desk.
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