eclared Harviss boldly. "I represent the Average
Reader--that's my business, that's what I've been training myself to do
for the last twenty years. It's a mission like another--the thing is to
do it thoroughly; not to cheat and compromise. I know fellows who are
publishers in business hours and dilettantes the rest of the time.
Well, they never succeed: convictions are just as necessary in business
as in religion. But that's not the point--I was going to say that if
you'll let me handle this book as a genuine thing I'll guarantee to
make it go."

The Professor stood motionless, his hand still on the manuscript.

"A genuine thing?" he echoed.

"A serious piece of work--the expression of your convictions. I tell
you there's nothing the public likes as much as convictions--they'll
always follow a man who believes in his own ideas. And this book is
just on the line of popular interest. You've got hold of a big thing.
It's full of hope and enthusiasm: it's written in the religious key.
There are passages in it that would do splendidly in a Birthday
Book--things that popular preachers would quote in their sermons. If
you'd wanted to catch a big public you couldn't have gone about it in a
better way. The thing's perfect for my purpose--I wouldn't let you
alter a word of it. It'll sell like a popular novel if you'll let me
handle it in the right way."

III

When the Professor left Harviss's office, the manuscript remained
behind. He thought he had been taken by the huge irony of the
situation--by the enlarged circumference of the joke. In its original
form, as Harviss had said, the book would have addressed itself to a
very limited circle: now it would include the world. The elect would
understand; the crowd would not; and his work would thus serve a double
purpose. And, after all, nothing was changed in the situation; not a
word of the book was to be altered. The change was merely in the
publisher's point of view, and in the "tip" he was to give the
reviewers. The Professor had only to hold his tongue and look serious.

These arguments found a strong reinforcement in the large premium which
expressed Harviss's sense of his opportunity. As a satire, the book
would have brought its author nothing; in fact, its cost would have
come out of his own pocket, since, as Harviss assured him, no publisher
would have risked taking it. But as a profession of faith, as the
recantation of an eminent biologist, whose leanings had hit