gloat at better ease. He
offered a cigar to Quagg.

"I daresn't smoke," swore that invalid.

"And I suppose you daresn't drink, either," observed Wallingford.
"Well, that doesn't stop me, you know."

Wearily the doctor indicated a push-button.

"You'll have to ring for a boy yourself," said he.

When the boy came Wallingford ordered a highball.

"And what's yours, sir?" asked the boy, turning to the doctor.

"Lithia, you bullet-headed nigger!" roared the doctor with a twinge of
pain in his leg. "That's twice to-day I've had to tell you I can't
drink anything but lithia. Get out!"

The boy "got," grinning.

"Seriously, though, old man," said Wallingford, judging that the
doctor had been aggravated long enough, "your condition must be very
bad for business, and I've come to make you a proposition to go into
the manufacture of the Peerless on a large scale."

The doctor sat in silence for a moment, shaking his head despondently.

"You can't get spielers," he declared. "I've tried it. Once I made up
a lot of the Sciatacata and sent out three men; picked the best I
could find that had made good with street-corner pitches in other
lines, and their sales weren't half what mine would be; moreover, they
got drunk on the job, didn't pay for their goods, and were a nuisance
any way you took 'em."

Wallingford laughed.

"I didn't mean that we should manufacture the priceless remedy for
street fakers to handle," he explained. "I propose to start a big
factory to supply drug-stores through the jobbing trade, to spend a
hundred thousand dollars in advertising right off the bat, give you
stock in the company for the use of your formula, and a big salary to
superintend the manufacture. That will do away with your exposure to
the night air, stop the increase of your sciatica, and make you more
money. Why, Doc, just to begin with we'll give you ten thousand
dollars' worth of stock."

It took Doctor Quagg some time to recover from the shock of that much
money.

"I've heard of such things," said he gratefully, "but I never supposed
it could happen to me."

"You don't need to put up a cent," went on Wallingford. "And I don't
need to put up a cent. We'll use other people's money."

"Where are you going to get your share?" asked the doctor
suspiciously. "Are you going to have a salary, too?"

"No," said Wallingford. "We'll pay you thirty-five dollars to start
with as superintendent of the manufacturing department, but