tion by a cooperative
organization of one hundred per cent. bona-fide Americans. The article
concluded:
The public will watch with a great deal of interest the
outcome of Mr. Gregory's fight to regain control of a
lost industry in local waters. Should the young cannery
owner succeed, it will mean much to the people of Port
Angeles in reducing the high cost of living. For Mr.
Gregory has already under way, comprehensive plans for
supplying the public with fresh fish at a greatly
reduced price, through his system of establishing
cooperative markets and dealing direct with the
consumer.
Gregory's face was radiant with satisfaction.
"You're there on that kind of stuff, Bill," he exclaimed, gripping
Hawkins by the hand. "You surely put it over in great shape."
Hawkins frowned.
"Fell down on one thing," he observed. "The city editor blue-penciled my
direct reference to your brands of canned stuff. Claimed it was slapping
the ad man right in the face. Say, I'll tell you what to do," he went
on. "Let me write you up some good ads for your stuff and shoot them in
right away to the advertising department. That will put you in strong
with the paper and I can 'dead-head' a lot more dope through."
Gregory gave Hawkins _carte blanche_.
As Hawkins set to work, Dickie Lang entered.
"Light haul all around," she announced. "The albacore are heading out.
Looks as if we were going to have a little weather."
Gregory's expression changed quickly at her news.
"That means we've got to follow them up," he said. "We've got to have
the fish. We've been putting it over on Mascola for the past few weeks
and we can't fall down now. The jobbers are watching us and we've got
to show them we can deliver the goods. In addition to that I am going to
enter into quite an extensive advertising campaign and when it begins to
bear its fruit, we've got to have the stuff on hand to come across.
There are a lot of people looking this way right now and we've got to
make good."
"That's the way to talk," encouraged Hawkins. Then he smiled at the girl
and nodded toward his friend. "Notice how I'm bringing him alive," he
exclaimed. "He's quit 'shooting nickels' now. He's raised his sights
already."
They all smiled at Hawkins' enthusiasm. Then the girl's face became
serious.
"You know what going out to sea means," she said quietly. "It just about
means Diablo. That's where Mascola's boats went thi
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