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stronger reason why the Forestdale stores should have a plan of their own to meet the competition?”

      Mr. Woodring had been addressing his remarks to Ted, but Mr. Dobson had been following closely, and it was to the editor that he now turned for a decision.

      Mr. Dobson had evidently been giving the matter some careful thought, and he now seemed to have made up his mind.

      “Yes, Mr. Woodring, you’re right that our town has been having trouble keeping our sales up. Since North Ridge is a larger town, it may be that it does offer attractions to buyers that we can’t hope to meet but we should at least be able to hold our own, and it may be that your trading-stamp plan will do it. At least, I think it’s worth a trial.”

      Mr. Woodring rose to extend his hand to the editor. “Thanks. I’ve heard something about your reputation, and how you get behind local projects, so I was hoping I could interest you.”

      “But it’s still up to you to sell the plan to the merchants,” the editor cautioned him. “If you can do that, the newspaper will stand behind you with publicity and an advertising plan such as we were discussing before Ted and Nancy came in.”

      Having made his sale, a good salesman leaves promptly, and Mr. Woodring was about to do so when he added:

      “By the way, now that you’ve accepted my plan, I feel I’d better go ahead and open up some office space. Do you know of any place that happens to be vacant?”

      “There’s the Jackson Realty Company office on Poplar Street,” Ted spoke up. “They moved out a couple of weeks ago, and I noticed this morning it’s still vacant. Of course I don’t know whether they’ve got a new tenant lined up, and it isn’t very large.”

      “That sounds like it might do,” said Mr. Woodring quickly. “I don’t need much space—just a desk and a telephone and display room for some of my premiums. I may need it for only a few weeks. Sometimes my firm opens up a permanent premium store, but I don’t think the volume will justify it in this town. Later, people will have to order their premiums by mail. But just now I think I ought to have some display space. It might help arouse a little customer interest and curiosity, if nothing more. Incidentally, you needn’t regard anything I’ve said today as being at all confidential. The more publicity you can give to the plan the better.”

      He said good-by to each of them by name, picked up his brief case into which he had stuffed his exhibits, and opened the door, almost bumping into Miss Monroe, who was just returning. Pausing only to excuse himself, he hurried on outside, and was soon out of sight.

      Miss Monroe seemed pleased that Ted and Nancy had become acquainted. Nancy hurriedly described her meeting with Ted at the swimming pool, but while she wanted to give Ted full credit, she made light of her own fears. Ted, too, followed her lead.

      “She could have made it all right by herself,” he joked, “but it was more fun this way.”

      “Well, what about lunch?” asked Miss Monroe, laying down her notebook and purse on the desk as though she had had a frustrating morning. “Will you join us, Mr. Dobson?”

      “No,” he returned with a smile, but still thoughtful, “I’ll stay here and tend to the shop until you get back.”

      “How about you, Ted?” asked the secretary.

      Having lunch with Nancy would have been fun, but Ted declined. There was still a question in the back of his mind. This Blue Harvest plan was interesting enough, but where did he fit in? Mr. Dobson had asked him to sit in on the conference, but for what purpose? It was hardly just a courtesy. After all, Mr. Dobson didn’t owe him any favors, although for some reason he seemed to think he did. Ted had an idea that Mr. Dobson was waiting to get him alone before broaching some sort of proposition.

      “I’d like to very much,” he answered, “but I’m expected home for lunch”—which was the truth. “Anyway, I hope I’ll be seeing you again soon, Nancy.”

      “I hope so, too, Ted,” she returned with a smile as she and her aunt left the office.

      CHAPTER 3

      HUMAN NATURE

      When they were alone, Ted sat down in the chair near Mr. Dobson’s desk. As he had surmised, the editor had indeed wanted to talk to him, but took time to light up his pipe before proceeding to business.

      “Ted, Mr. Woodring is going to need someone in his office, someone to answer the phone and handle inquiries while he’s out—and he expects to be on the road a good deal. I told him I’d let him know if I could find anyone, but I had you in mind. He mentioned something about it when I spoke to him on the phone early this morning, which was the reason for my call to you. It wouldn’t be hard work, and you might even find it dull, since you’d be sitting around alone most of the time. I certainly don’t want to interfere with any plans you may have for yourself, but it would probably be for only a few weeks, and the job is yours if you want it.”

      Ted hesitated. He didn’t mind taking the job, even though it did seem a little dull, for it would give him something profitable to do during the next few weeks. But first he had to be sure it really was a useful job, not just some made-up work Mr. Dobson had devised out of a feeling of obligation to him.

      “Are you sure he really needs somebody?” he asked.

      “Oh, yes, he honestly does, and if you don’t take it I’ll try to get someone else for him. I may as well make it clear to you that if you start the job, it will be the newspaper and not Mr. Woodring who is paying your salary. This will be part of the help I promised him, in case he’s successful in interesting merchants in his plan. Of course our interest is clear. Anything that helps our merchants helps our advertising. That’s being a little crass about it, since my principal desire is to do something which I feel is good for the whole town, but it would be hypocritical to deny that we have a self-interest in the plan, too.”

      “I guess I’ll take the job, then, if he really wants me,” Ted answered, but couldn’t avoid a feeling of disappointment. When Mr. Dobson had phoned him that morning, Ted had been led to hope that something big and exciting was in the wind. Well, life wasn’t always like that. A thing could be big and important, but not very exciting.

      Mr. Dobson swung about in his swivel chair until he was directly facing Ted. “I’ve one little point to make, Ted, and I certainly hope you won’t misunderstand me. I first had an inquiry from the Blue Harvest people a few weeks ago. Naturally, I checked their references, and I find that while they are a new company, the investors behind the firm are persons of integrity. I then replied, expressing interest, with the result that Mr. Woodring was sent out to discuss the matter. Now I’ve nothing against new companies, but at the same time they often make mistakes due to their inexperience. They may have a slipshod sort of organization, they may make promises that they later find themselves unable to keep.

      “I’m sure you’ll understand that I’m not asking you to spy on Mr. Woodring. But he knows that you’re working for the newspaper, and that you will be reporting back to me from time to time. He’s presented a plan which I’ve accepted in good faith, and so I don’t think it’s wrong to suggest that he preserve good faith with me. If anything should come up—anything at all—that suggests his plan of operation isn’t exactly the way he presented it to me, then I expect you to have no hesitancy in telling me about it.”

      This was growing a little queer, Ted thought. If Mr. Dobson had any doubts about the scheme, why did he let the newspaper get tied up with it? But maybe this was nothing more than his natural caution in dealing with a new company and with people who were strangers to him. After all, he had spent decades building up the newspaper’s reputation in the community and couldn’t afford to let anything happen to that reputation.

      “Do you know anything about Mr. Woodring?” Ted inquired. “He seemed like a good sort to me, and it looks like he knows his onions. He was ready with an answer for anything we could say.”

      Once more the editor hesitated. “Yes, Ted, I’m inclined to agree with you. But I must admit

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