He raised the suspenders tenderly from the pile and fondled them in his
hands.

"See this?" he asked, running his finger along the red corded edge of
the elastic. He took up the tie and ran his nail along the red stripe
that formed the selvedge on the back, and said: "See this?" He pointed
to the red laces of the low shoes and asked, "See this?" And so through
the whole collection.

"What is it?" he asked. "It's genius! It's foresight."

He waved his hand over the pile.

"The aftermath!" he exclaimed.

"These suspenders are the Crimson Cord suspenders. These shoes are the
Crimson Cord shoes. This tie is the Crimson Cord tie. These crackers are
the Crimson Cord brand. Perkins & Co. get out a great book, 'The Crimson
Cord!' Sell five million copies. Dramatized, it runs three hundred
nights. Everybody talking Crimson Cord. Country goes Crimson Cord crazy.
Result--up jump Crimson Cord this and Crimson Cord that. Who gets the
benefit? Perkins & Co.? No! We pay the advertising bills and the other
man sells his Crimson Cord cigars. That is usual."

"Yes," I said, "I'm smoking a David Harum cigar this minute, and I am
wearing a Carvel collar."

"How prevent it?" asked Perkins. "One way only,--discovered by Perkins.
Copyright the words 'Crimson Cord' as trade-mark for every possible
thing. Sell the trade-mark on royalty; ten per cent. of all receipts for