"
"You can write like the devil," Edmonds offered up on twin supports of
vapor.
"Yes, and I can do more than that. I can think."
"For self, or others?" propounded the veteran.
"I take you. I can think for myself and make it profitable to others, if
I can find the chance. Why, Pop, this editorial game is child's play!"
"You've tried it?"
"Experimentally. The opportunities are limitless. I could make people
read editorials as eagerly as they read scandal or baseball."
"How?"
"By making them as simple and interesting as scandal or baseball."
"Oh! As easy as that," observed Edmonds scornfully. "High art, son!
Nobody's found the way yet. Perhaps, if--"
He stopped, took his pipe from his lips and let his raised eyes level
themselves toward the corner of the L where appeared a figure.
"Would you gentlemen mind if I took my coffee with you?" said the
newcomer smoothly.
Banneker looked with questioning eyebrows toward Edmonds, who nodded.
"Come up and sit down, Mr. Marrineal," invited Banneker, moving his
chair to leave a vacancy between himself and his companion.
CHAPTER XIV
Tertius C. Marrineal was a man of forty, upon whom the years had laid no
bonds. A large fortune, founded by his able but illiterate father in the
timber stretches of the Great Lakes region, and spread out into various
profitable enterprises of mining, oil, cattle, and milling, provided him
with a constantly increasing income which, though no amateur at
spending, he could never quite overtake.
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