y pull an
ounce."

"Suppose a real toothache comes up?"

"I think that is one now. Watch him."

A young ranchman was making his way up the steps that led to the stage.
His skin was tanned by long exposure to the California sun, and his
cheek rounded into an unmistakable swelling.

"No fake about him," commented Baker.

He seated himself in the chair. Painless examined his jaw carefully. He
started back, both hands spread in expostulation.

"My _dear_ friend!" he cried, "you can save that tooth! It would be a
crime to pull that tooth! Come to my office at ten to-morrow morning and
I will see what can be done." He turned to the audience and for ten
minutes expounded the doctrine of modern dentistry as it stands for
saving a tooth whenever possible. Incidentally he had much to say as to
his skill in filling and bridge work and the marvellous painlessness
thereof. The meeting broke up finally to the inspiring strains of a
really good band. Bob and his friend, standing near the door, watched
the audience file out. Some threw away their pink and blue tickets, but
most stowed them carefully away.

"And every one that goes to the 'luxurious offices' for the free
dollar's worth will leave ten round iron ones," said Baker.

After a moment the Painless One and the Wizard marched smartly out,
serenely oblivious of the crowd. They stepped into a resplendent red
brougham and were whisked rapidly away.

"It pays to advertise," quoted Baker philosophically.

They moved on up the street.

"There's the inventor of the Unlimited Life," said Baker suddenly,
indicating a slender figure approaching. "I haven't seen him in three
years--not since he got into this graft, anyway."

"Unlimited Life," echoed Bob, "what's that? A medicine?"

"No. A cult. Hullo, Sunny!"

The approaching figure swerved and stopped. Bob saw a very slender
figure clad in a close-fitting, gray frock suit. To his surprise, from
beneath the wide, black felt hat there peered at him the keenly nervous
face of the more intelligent mulatto. The man's eyes were very bright
and shrewd. His hair surrounded his face as an aureole of darkness, and
swept low to his coat collar.

"Mr. Baker," he said, simply, his eyes inscrutable.

"Well, Sunny, this is my old friend Bob Orde. Bob, this is the
world-famous Sunny Larue, apostle of the Unlimited Life of whom you've
heard so much." He winked at Bob. "How's the Colony flourishing, Sunny?"

"More and more our people