bon Sypher!_" on the platform of the
Gare de Lyon, and had presented him as the Friend of Humanity to the Grand
Duchess.

To Sypher, lying on his back and dreaming of the days when through him the
forced marches of weary troops would become light-hearted strolls along the
road, the jealously guarded portals of the War Offices of the world
presented no terrors. He ticked off the countries in his mind until he came
to Turkey. Whom did he know in Turkey? He had once given a certain Musurus
Bey a light for his cigarette in the atrium of the Casino at Monte Carlo;
but that could scarcely be called an introduction. No matter; his star was
now in the ascendant. The Lord would surely provide a Turk for him in
Geneva. He shifted his position in the berth, and a twinge of pain passed
through his foot, hurting horribly.

When he rose to dress, he found some difficulty in putting on his boot. On
leaving the train at Geneva he could scarcely walk. In his room at the
hotel he anointed his heel again with the Cure, and, glad to rest, sat by
the window looking at the blue lake and Mont Blanc white-capped in the
quivering distance, his leg supported on a chair. Then his traveler, who
had arranged to meet him by appointment, was shown into the room. They were
to lunch together. To ease his foot Sypher put on an evening slipper and
hobbled downstairs.

The traveler told a depressing tale. Jebusa Jones had got in everywhere and
was underselling the Cure. A new German skin remedy had insidiously crept
on to the market. Wholesale houses wanted impossible discounts, and retail
chemists could not be inveigled into placing any but the most insignificant
orders. He gave dismaying details, terribly anxious all the while lest his
chief should attribute to his incompetence the growing unpopularity of the
Cure. But to his amazement Sypher listened smilingly to his story of
disaster, and ordered a bottle of champagne.

"All that is nothing!" he cried. "A flea bite in the ocean. It will right
itself as the public realize how they are being taken in by these American
and German impostors. The Cure can't fail. And let me tell you, Dennymede,
my son, the Cure is going to flourish as it has never flourished before.
I've got a scheme that will take your breath away."

The glow of inspiration in Sypher's blue eyes and the triumph written on
his resolute face brought the features of the worried traveler for the
first time into an expression of normal sa