Part 59

“None of your palaver with me, young man!” returned the brisk old lady, who was devoted to the Health Master, and showed it by a policy of determined opposition of the letter and whole-hearted support of the spirit and deed, in all things. “Probably he knows as much as most of your regular doctors, at that!”

“At least he seems to know human nature. That’s the strong point of the charlatan. But have you got any of his medicine left?”

“Yes; I think I can lay my hands on what’s left of it. I remember that Sally boohooed like a baby, grown woman that she is, when I took it away from her.” Dr. Strong’s eyebrows went up sharply. “As soon as we get to the house I’ll look it up.”

On their arrival at the roomy old farmstead which Mr. Clyde had remodeled and modernized for what he called “an occasional three days of grace” from his business in the city of Worthington, Grandma Sharpless set about the search, and presently came to the living-room bearing in one hand a large bottle and in the other a newspaper.

“Since you’re interested in Professor Gray,” she said, “here’s what he says about himself in yesterday’s ‘Bairdstown Bugle.’ I do think,” she added, “that the Honorable Silas Harris might be in better business with his paper than publishing such truck as this. Listen to it.”

GOSPEL HERBS WILL CURE YOUR ILLS

Women of Bairdstown; Read your Bible! Revelation 22d chapter, 2d verse. God promises that “the Herbs of the field shall heal the nations.” In a vision from above, the holy secret has been revealed to me. Alone of all men, I can brew this miracle-working elixir.

“The blasphemous old slinkum!” Grandma Sharpless interrupted herself to say angrily. “He doesn’t even quote the Scriptures right!”

“Oh, blasphemy is a small matter for a rascal of his kind,” said the Health Master lightly. “Go on.”

She read on:—

Come to me, ye women who suffer, and I will give you relief. All those wasting and wearing ailments from which the tender sex suffers, vanish like mist before the healing, revivifying influence of Gospel Herbs. Supposed incurable diseases: Rheumatism, Dropsy, Diabetes and all kidney ills, Stomach Trouble, Scrofula, Blood Poison, even the dreaded scourge, Consumption, yield at once to this remedy. Though my special message is to women, I will not withhold this boon from any suffering human. Come one and all, rich and poor, young and old, of either sex. Your money refunded if I do not cure you. Public meeting Monday and Tuesday evenings, at eight o’clock sharp in the Scatcherd Opera House; admission free to all. Private consultation at the Mallory Hotel, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Remember, I cure where the doctors fail; or no pay.

Prof. Graham Gray, The Great Gray Benefactor.

Mrs. Sharpless held out for the general view the advertisement, which occupied, in huge type, two thirds of a page of the “Bugle.” The remainder of the page was taken up with testimonials to the marvelous effects of the Gospel Herbs. Most of the letters were from far-away towns, but there were a few from the general vicinity of Bairdsville.

Meantime Dr. Strong had been delicately tasting and smelling the contents of the bottle, which were thick and reddish.

“What do you make out is in it?” asked Clyde.

“Death—and a few worse things. Grandma Sharpless, you say that the girl cried for this after you took it from her?”

“Not only that; she wrote to the Professor for more. And when it came I smashed the bottle.”

“You ought to have the honorary degree of M.D. Well, it’s pretty plain, but to make sure I’ll send this to Worthington for an analysis.”

“So our friend, the gray wolf, is going to prowl in Bairdstown for the next three days!” Thomas Clyde began to rub his chin softly; then not so softly; and presently quite hard. His wife watched him with troubled eyes. When his hand came down to rest upon his knee, it was doubled into a very competent-looking fist. His face set in the expression which the newspapers of his own city had dubbed, after the tenement campaign of the year before, “Clyde’s fighting smile.”

“Oh, Tom!” broke out his wife, “what kind of trouble are you going to get into now?”

“Trouble?” repeated the head of the family, in well-simulated surprise. “Why, dear, I wasn’t even thinking of trouble—for myself. But I believe it is time for a little action. Let’s call this a household meeting” (this was one of the established methods of the Clyde clan) “and find out. As it isn’t a family affair, we won’t call in the children this time. Strong, what, if anything, are we going to do about this stranger in our midst? Are we going to let him take us in?”

“The question is,” said Dr. Strong quickly, “whether the Clyde family is willing to loan its subsidized physician temporarily to the city of Bairdstown.”

“On the Chinese plan,” supplemented Clyde.

“Certainly. On the Chinese plan of trying to save the community from a visitation instead of waiting to cure them of the incurable results of it.”

“By visitation I suppose you mean Professor Gray?” said Mrs. Sharpless.

“Exactly. I should rank him rather higher than an epidemic of scarlet fever, as an ally of damage and death.”

“I’ll vote ‘Yes,’” said Mrs. Clyde rather plaintively. “Only, I wish you two men didn’t have so much Irish in your temperament.”

“I scorn your insinuation,” replied her husband. “I’m the original dove of peace, but this Gray person ruffles my plumage. What do you say, Grandma?”