ugh stuff down there to keep him in
food for the rest of his life!"

I bust out laughin'.

"Ha, ha!" I says. "That's it! The poor fathead went and fell for that
bunk Alex handed him and he's gone and laid in that stuff so's he won't
starve when the government seizes the food supplies. Can you tie that?"

"I always thought he was a little queer," says Ryan. "Especially when
he claims he's a ball player. Let's get him in some nice, private
sanitarium somewheres and I'll split the bill with you."

"Leave him alone!" I says. "I'll take care of this myself. If he
stays there long enough, I gotta chance to win a piece of money and--"

"All right!" says Ryan. "It ain't no milk outa my coffee, but that
bird oughta be under lock and key!"

I could hardly wait to tell Alex about Hector's first step towards
success. I rung him up immediately and give him the dope, windin' up
by askin' when he'd be ready to pay me off.

"Pay _you_ off?" he says. "Save that comedy for Cousin Alice! Just
you leave Hector be now; from what you tell me everything's goin' fine
and--"

"Goin' fine?" I hollers. "When that poor simp buries himself in Jersey
with all the food in the world, do you call that makin' good?"

"Gimme a week!" says Alex. "He said he'd be back then, and if he ain't
shown somethin' by that time, you get the check."

"Fair enough!" I says, "and have it certified."

The followin' Monday night, Alex as usual is honorin' me and the wife
with his presence at dinner. I was in such good humor that I didn't as
much as wince when he calls for another piece of roast beef, makin' an
even eight. Hector had failed to appear as advertised and the noted
Success Developer had promised to pay me off before he left. They was
a ring at the bell and the wife ushers in Hector, ruinin' the night for
me!

"I would of reported at the ball park this afternoon like I promised,"
he says, "only I was in a burg where the only time a train ever stopped
there was when one went off the track."

I hardly knowed it was the same Hector which went away the week before.
His cheeks was filled out past the legal limit and he had a color that
would make an insurance company let him write his own policy. He was
Alfred Q. Health--that's all!

"I'm sorry to see you people eatin' the flesh of the cow, roasted in an
unscientific manner," he says. "One slab of that is shy just
forty-eight calories and they's more proteins in a filetted bean!"