the title of the medicine, and the mere
fact that he is not with us does not need to prevent our going ahead."

"Have you the formula for his preparation?" asked Doctor Lazzier
quietly.

"Oh, no," replied Wallingford carelessly. "I don't see that that need
stop us."

"Why not?" protested young Corbin. "Our whole business is built upon
that formula."

Wallingford smiled.

"We simply must stick to the Sciatacata," resumed Wallingford. "We
have all this fine stationery printed, with the full name of the
Peerless dope; we have elaborate booklets and circulars about it, and
the first delivery of ten thousand labels is here. There will be no
trouble in getting up another Peerless Sciatacata which will at least
be harmless, but I think that we can do even better than that. I think
that Doctor Lazzier can furnish us a good, handy, cheap prescription
for sciatic rheumatism."

"Certainly not," protested Doctor Lazzier with vast professional
indignation; but he nevertheless winked at Wallingford.

"Never mind," said Wallingford to Corbin; "I'll get the formula all
right."

"For my part I'm willing to sell my stock at ten per cent.," said
Corbin with infinite disgust. He was thinking at that very moment of a
gaudy "function" he was to attend that night, one marking quite an
advance in his social climb, and he almost dreaded to go. "I don't
like to lose money, but, in this case, I'd really rather. This is a
dreadful experience."

The rest of them agreed with young Corbin in attitude, if not in
words, and it was with considerable sadness that they dispersed, after
having decided, somewhat reluctantly, that Wallingford should go ahead
with the Sciatacata. Pursuing this plan Wallingford sent away the copy
for the bottom half of the great woozy-feeling advertisement.

The following afternoon, however, came the death-blow, in the shape of
a most hilarious article in the local papers. In a neighboring city
Doctor Quagg had gone out to sell the Peerless Sciatacata, had been
caught in a drizzle of spring rain and had been sent, raving angry, to
the hospital with a most severe case of sciatic rheumatism. The joke
of it was too good. The local papers, as a mere kindly matter of news
information, published a list of the stock-holders of the Doctor Quagg
Peerless Sciatacata Company.

Wallingford, with that item before him, sat and chuckled till the
tears quivered on his eyelashes; but, even in the midst of his
appreciation of th