Professor Certain's Certina, the Sure-Cure" (for
he preserved the old name as a trade-mark), had made a vast deal of
money for its proprietor. Worthington estimated his fortune at fifteen
millions, growing at the rate of a million yearly, and was not
preposterously far afield. In a city of two hundred thousand
inhabitants, claimed (one hundred and seventy-five thousand allowed by a
niggling and suspicious census), this is all that the most needy of
millionaires needs. It was all that Dr. Surtaine needed. He enjoyed his
high satisfaction as a hard-earned increment.

Something more than satisfaction beamed from his face this blustery
March noon as he awaited the Worthington train at a small station an
hour up the line. He fidgeted like an eager boy when the whistle
sounded, and before the cars had fairly come to a stop he was up the
steps of the sleeper and inside the door. There rose to meet him a tall,
carefully dressed and pressed youth, whose exclamation was evenly
apportioned between welcome and surprise.

"Dad!"

"Boy-ee!"

To the amusement of the other passengers, the two seized each other in a
bear-hug.

"Oof!" panted the big man, releasing his son. "That's the best thing
that's happened to me this year. George" (to the porter), "get me a
seat. Get us two seats together. Aren't any? Perhaps this gentleman,"
turning to the chair back of him, "wouldn't mind moving across the aisle
until we get to Worthington."

"Certainly not. Glad to oblige," said the stranger, smiling. People
usually were "glad to oblige" Dr. Surtaine whether they knew him or not.
The man inspired good will in others.

"It's nearly a year since I've set eyes on my son," he added in a voice
which took the whole car into his friendly confidence; "and it seems
like ten. How are you feeling, Hal? You look chirp as a cricket."

"Couldn't possibly feel better, sir. Where did you get on?"

"Here at State Crossing. Thought I'd come up and meet you. The office
got on my nerves this morning. Work didn't hold me worth a cent. I kept
figuring you coming nearer and nearer until I couldn't stand it, so I
banged down my desk, told my secretary that I was going to California on
the night boat and mightn't be back till evening, hung the scrap-basket
on the stenographer's ear when she tried to hold me up to sign some
letters, jumped out of the fifth-story window, and here I am. I hope
you're as tickled to see me as I am to see you."

The young man's ha