progress. "Of course we know Loeb--a
very slippery customer, too, with just enough science at his command to
make the case against him difficult.

"I suppose," went on O'Hanlon, "you know that in Europe the popular
furore about radium and its applications appeared earlier than it did
here. But now we have great numbers of dishonest and fake radium cure
establishments. Usually they have neither radium nor knowledge. They
promise a cure, but they can't even palliate the trouble. Loeb has some
radium, I guess, but that's about all."

"I think I'd like to visit the 'doctor' and his 'medical museum,'"
ventured Kennedy when O'Hanlon had finished describing the case to us.

"Very well," agreed O'Hanlon. "Our cases against the quacks are just
about completed. I've heard a great deal about you, Mr. Kennedy. I
think I may trust you."

The inspector paused. "Tomorrow," he added, looking at us significantly,
"we have planned a simultaneous raid of all of them in the city.
However, there's no objection to your seeing Dr. Loeb, if you'll be
careful to give no hint that something is about to be pulled off. I'm
sure any new evidence we may get against him will be quite welcome."

"I'd like to see him in action before the raid," hastened Craig.

"Well, I think the best way, then, for you to get at him," advised the
inspector, "would be to adopt the method my investigators use with these
fakers. I mean for one or the other of you to pose as a prospective
patient. Only don't let him treat you too much with any of those
electrical things of his."

Craig glanced over at me whimsically.

"Oh," I said good-humoredly, "I'll be the goat, if that's what you're
going to ask me."

Craig laughed.

"Come in tomorrow," called the inspector as we left. "I'd like to hear
what happens and I may be able to add something to what you find out."

We found Dr. Loeb established in a palatial suite of offices in an
ultra-modern office building. Outside was what he called his "medical
museum." It was a grewsome collection of wax figures and colored charts
well calculated to prepare one for the worst. At the end of the room was
a huge sign bearing his name and the words, "Positive Cure for Cancer
Without Cautery or the Knife."

There were no cappers or steerers about the place, though I have no
doubt he had them working for him outside to bring in business. Instead,
we were met by a very pretty, fluffy-haired girl, evidently the doctor's
secretary