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Updated: May 10, 2025
As the aftermath of his anger there remained with him a grim determination. It was implicit in his voice, as he addressed Shearson, who walked in upon him. "Cut out every line of medical from the paper." "When?" gasped Shearson. "Now. For to-morrow's paper." "But, Mr. Surtaine " "Every damned line. And if any of it ever gets back, the man responsible loses his job."
Surtaine," returned the other in the same tone, "when you undertake an investigation for the 'Clarion, you are one of my reporters and I expect a full and frank report from you." "Bull's-eye for you, my boy. You win. They did run those cases out. Before we're through with it they'll probably run more out.
Surtaine reproached him sorrowfully, "and use hard words about a transaction that is perfectly straight business and happens every day." "Not in my church." "It isn't your letter, anyhow. You didn't write it." "It is written on the official paper of the church. Smithson told me so. He didn't understand what use would be made of it when he wrote it. Take your check back, Dr.
If Certina itself, if the tutelary genius of the House of Surtaine, were indeed but a monstrous quackery cynically accepted as such by those in the secret, what shred of defense remained to him who had so prospered by it? Through the wreckage of his pride, his loyalty, his affection, Hal saw, in place of the glowing and benign face of Dr.
I licked you once in the old days, and I guess I could do it now, but I don't want to. Come and have a drink with old Andy." "Andy? Andy the Spieler? Andy Certain?" "Dr. L. André Surtaine, at your service. Now, will you shake?" Still surly, Mr. McQuiggan hung back. "What about that roast?" he demanded. "Wasn't sure of you. Twenty years is a long time.
Harrington Surtaine," his eyes blazed into the other's with the flame of fanaticism, "I tell you, if you don't accept this opportunity that the Lord gives you, you and your paper are damned. Do you know what it means to damn the soul of a paper? Why, man, there are people who believe in the 'Clarion' like gospel." Hal got to his feet. "Veltman, I dare say you mean well.
The special employee of Certina was a person of diverse information and judicious counsel. His chief had not incorrectly described him as the diplomat of the trade. No small diplomacy had been required for the planning of the Emergency Committee scheme, the details of which Mr. Couch had worked out, himself. It was, as he boasted to Dr. Surtaine, "a clincher."
Now, it is a rule of the patent medicine trade never to advertise an unwilling testimonial because that kind always has a kick-back. Hence: "Oh, if you feel that way about it," said Dr. Surtaine disdainfully, "I'll keep it out of print." "And return it to me," continued the other, in a tone of calm sequentiality, which might represent either appeal, suggestion, or demand.
"In what way?" asked Hal, meeting a grip like iron from the stranger. "News?" "News! I guess not. Business, I said. Real money. Advertising." "It's like this, Mr. Surtaine," said L.P. McQuiggan, turning his spare, hard visage toward Hal. "I've got some copper stock to sell an A1 under-developed proposition; and your father, who's an old pal, tells me the 'Clarion' can do the business for me.
There have been over twenty cases in No. 7 and No. 9 alone. Three deaths in the last two days." "Is it some sort of epidemic starting?" asked Hal. "That would be news, wouldn't it?" At the word "epidemic," Dr. Surtaine had risen, and now came forward flapping his hand like a seal. "The kind of news that never ought to get into print," he exclaimed.
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