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Updated: June 13, 2025
I appreciate the fine humanitarian tradition of our Lobby which lies behind your protest, but at such a time as this the good of the body politic requires drastic measures. Why not see me after court, and we can discuss it then?" He turned back to Feldman, and his face was severe. "The same education which has produced such fine young men as Dr.
"There's a cure for it, but I don't have the serum. Neither do you, or you wouldn't have brought me here. I couldn't help if I wanted to." "That old book didn't list a cure," Jake told him. "But it said the kids didn't have to be crippled. There was something about a Kenny treatment. Doc, does the stuff really cripple for life?" Feldman saw one of the boys flinch.
"That's all everybody says. We can't make a million dollars out of one garment alone, Barney. We can't even make expenses. I'm afraid we'll go in the hole over ten thousand dollars if we don't get rid of him." "But we can't get rid of him," said Barney. "We got a contract with him." "Don't I know it?" said Leon, sadly. "Ain't I paid Henry D. Feldman a hundred dollars for drawing it up?
Kronberg's claim of title I mean his immediate vendor was the only surviving collateral of an intestate," he said. "That's where you make a big mistake," Uncle Mosha interrupted. "The feller which I bought the house from was a salesman for a shirt concern." Feldman glared at Uncle Mosha and was about to crush him with a flood of law Latin when the door opened.
Feldman began gathering it up, but the chief was no longer laughing. A big hand grabbed up the space ticket suddenly, and there was no friendliness now on Ben's face. "Art Billing's card!" Ben told the other tubemen. "Five trips I made with Art. He was saving his money, going to buy a farm on Mars. Five trips and one more to go before he had enough. Now you show up with his ticket!"
And Feldman left the shop without my knowledge. I'll have to look into that. I wonder if that Frenchy looking chap I saw was the one who tried to pump Eradicate? Another point to settle." The last was easily disposed of, for, on reaching his shops that afternoon, Tom cross-questioned the colored man, and obtained a most accurate description of the odd foreigner.
"Like swiping those medical journals from Northport for you, or like Molly Badger getting that job as maid to spy on Chris Ryan. Name it and I'll do my best." Doc had a vague idea of village politics, but he had more important things to think of. Most of his foul mood had disappeared with the clue he'd stumbled on, and his chief worry now was to clinch the facts. Feldman considered the problem.
"Well, lookyhere, Mawruss," Abe announced jumping to his feet, "I'm going right away and fill out one of them guarantees what Henry D. Feldman fixes up for us, and also I will write out a note at six months for twenty-one hundred dollars and indorse it with the firm's name. Then if he wants to you could exchange the note for the guarantee, Mawruss, and we could ship the goods right away."
It tallied in every detail with the man Tom had seen in the woods. "And now about Feldman," mused Tom, as he went to the foreman of the shop where the suspected man had been employed. "Yes, Feldman asked for a day off," the foreman said in response to Tom's question. "He claimed his mother was sick, and he wanted to go to see her.
Southport's all messed up while the new she-doctor gets her metabolism changed. Maybe the old guy there would have helped, but he died a couple months ago. So it looks like you're our only hope." "Then you have no hope," Feldman told him sickly. "I'm a pariah, Jake. I can't do a thing for you." "We heard about your argument with the Lobby. News reaches Mars. But these are mighty sick people, Doc."
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