heard of that old maid sister of his, and how she was a queer old
girl; but I didn't have any idea what a cold blooded proposition she was.
Honest, she seemed put out and pettish because I'd called her up.

"Jeremiah again, hey?" she squeaks. "Now, why on earth don't he stay in
that sanatorium where I took him? This is the fourth time he's gone
wandering off, and I've been sent for to hunt him up. You just tell him
to trot back to it, that's all."

"But see here, Miss Fargo," says I, "he's been trottin' around until you
can't tell him anything! He's snoozin' away here in my office, dead to
the world."

"Well, I can't help it," says she. "I'm not going to be bothered with
Jeremiah to-day. I've got two sick cats to attend to."

"Cats!" says I. "Say, what do you----"

"Oh, hush up!" says she. "Do anything you like with him!" And hanged if
she don't bang up the receiver at that, and leave me standin' there at my
end of the wire lookin' silly.

"Talk about your freak plutes," says I to Tutwater, after I've explained
the situation, "if this ain't the limit! Look what I've got on my hands
now!"

Tutwater, he's standin' there gazin' hard at old Jerry Fargo, his eyes
shinin' and his thought works goin' at high pressure speed. All of a
sudden he slaps me on the back and grips me by the hand. "Professor,"
says he, "I have it! There is Opportunity!"

"Eh?" says I. "Old Jerry? How?"

"I shall cure him--restore his mind, make him normal," says Tutwater.

"What do you know about brushin' out batty lofts?" says I.

"Nothing at all," says he; "but I can find someone who does. You'll give
me Fargo, won't you?"

"Will I?" says I. "I'll advance you twenty to take him away, and charge
it up to him. But what'll you do with him?"

"Start the Tutwater Sanatorium for Deranged Millionaires," says he.
"There's a fortune in it. May I leave him here for an hour or so?"

"What for?" says I.

"Until I can engage my chief of staff," says he.

"Say, Tutty," says I, "do you really mean to put over a bluff the size of
that?"

"I've thought it all out," says he. "I can do it."

"All right, blaze ahead," says I; "but I'm bettin' you land in the lockup
inside of twenty-four hours."

What do you think, though? By three o'clock he comes back, towin' a
spruce, keen eyed young chap that he introduces as Dr. McWade. He's
picked him up over at Bellevue, where he found him doin' practice work in
the psychopathic ward. On the strength of tha