bought a sanitarium?--some eight
hundred grand worth? And it's only half paid for?"

"Oh, that. The royalties will take care of the payments."

"Hillary, you keep forgetting about taxes."

"Then let them take it back by default. I'm through with it."

"Dammit," I said, "I looked into this deal. People don't take back
sanitariums like over-ripe bananas, especially when they got you on the
hook for more than it's worth. They'll hold you to the contract. And you
can't get your equity out if you don't protect it by keeping up your
payments. You have a wonderful start, and if you just fill the contracts
I have on file now you can pay it off and have plenty left to retire on.
But right now you aren't so solvent, boy."

Well, he finally came out of his trance long enough to agree to fulfill
the commitments I'd made for him, and I thought that once he got started
there would be no holding him.

Just to make sure I did something on my own. I let his identity and
whereabouts leak out.

It was a sneaky thing to do to him, but I figured that once he got a
real taste of the fame that was waiting him he would never let go of it.

The papers splashed it: "Mystery Genius Is Lad of 19!"

They swamped him. They swarmed over him and plastered him with honorary
literary degrees, domestic and foreign. They Oscared him and Nobelled
him. They wined, dined and adored him into a godhead of the arts.

The acting, publishing, TV, radio and movie greats paid homage to his
genius by the most hysterical bidding for his talents their check-books
could support. I kept waiting for the Secretary of the Treasury to
present him with the key to Fort Knox.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, I waited patiently--having no choice, since I started the
publicity nightmare myself--for the earthquake to settle down. As his
agent I was holding off all new commitments until he fulfilled the ones
on hand.

Six months passed, and Hillary was still wallowing in glory, too busy
sopping up plaudits to bother turning a hand.

Finally I sent a goon squad after him and dragged him to my office. He
arrived in a four-hundred dollar suit and a fifty-dollar tie. Each cuff
was decorated by a diamond link and a Hollywood starlet. I shooed out
the excess and came to the point.

"Recess is over," I said gently. "Now we settle down for a few months of
patty-cake with your secretaries. They're here in my offices now where I
can keep an eye on thin