Part 12 (1/2)
The visitor's mouth quivered a little at this remarkable paraphrase of the Scripture pa.s.sage; but he said gravely enough:
”Then we get back to the original charges, which the 'Clarion' quotes from the 'Church Standard.'”
”And there you are! Up to three years ago the 'Standard' took all the advertising we'd give them, and glad to get it. Then it went daffy over the muckraking magazine exposures, and threw out all the proprietary copy. Now nothing will do but it must roast its old patrons to show off its new virtue.”
”Do you deny what the editor of the 'Standard' said about Certina?”
Dr. Surtaine employed the stock answer of medical quackery when challenged on incontrovertible facts. ”Why, my friend,” he said with elaborate carelessness, ”if I tried to deny everything that irresponsible parties say about me, I wouldn't have any time left for business. Well, well; plenty of other people will be glad of that two thousand. Turn in the check at the cas.h.i.+er's window, please. Good-day to you.”
The Reverend Norman Hale retired, leaving the ”Clarion's” denunciation lying outspread on the table.
Meantime, wandering in the hallway, Hal had encountered Milly Neal.
”Are you very busy, Miss Neal?” he asked.
”Not more than usual,” she answered, regarding him with bright and kindly eyes. ”Did you want me?”
”Yes. I want to know some things about this business.”
”Outside of my own department, I don't know much.”
”Well; inside your own department, then. May I ask some questions?”
With a businesslike air she consulted a tiny watch, then glanced toward a settee at the end of the hall. ”I'll give you ten minutes,” she announced. ”Suppose we sit down over there.”
”Do the writers of those letters--symp-letters, I believe, you call them--” he began; ”do they seem to get benefit out of the advice returned?”
”What advice? To take Certina? Why, yes. Most of 'em come back for more.”
”You think it good medicine for all that long list of troubles?”
The girl's eyes opened wide. ”Of course it's a good medicine!” she cried. ”Do you think the Chief would make any other kind?”
”No; certainly not,” he hastened to disclaim. ”But it seems like a wide range of diseases to be cured by one and the same prescription.”
”Oh, we've got other proprietaries, too,” she a.s.sured him with her pretty air of partners.h.i.+p. ”There's the Stomachine, and the headache powders and the Relief Pills and the liniment; Dr. Surtaine runs 'em all, and every one's a winner. Not that I keep much track of 'em. We only handle the Certina correspondence in our room. I know what that can do. Why, I take Certina myself when there's anything the matter with me.”
”Do you?” said Hal, much interested. ”Well, you're certainly a living testimonial to its efficacy.”
”All the people in the shop take it. It's a good tonic, even when you're all right.”
The listener felt his vague uneasiness soothed. If those who were actually in the business had faith in the patent medicine's worth, it must be all that was claimed for it.
”I firmly believe,” continued the little loyalist, ”that the Chief has done more good and saved more lives than all the doctors in the country.
I'd trust him further than any regular doctor I know, even if he doesn't belong to their medical societies and all that. They're jealous of him; that's what's the matter with them.”
”Good for you!” laughed Hal, feeling his doubts melt at the fire of her enthusiasm. ”You're a good rooter for the business.”
”So's the whole shop. I guess your father is the most popular employer in Worthington. Have you decided to come into the business, Mr.
Surtaine?”