or's own
physician for one thousand five hundred dollars cash_. And a line of
court doctors and swell university professors anywhere from one thousand
dollars way down to one hundred. It's the biggest testimonial stunt ever
pulled."

"And every mother's son of 'em," put in Dr. Surtaine, "staking a
high-toned scientific reputation that the one sure, unfailing, reliable
upbuilder for brain-workers, nervous folks, tired-out, or broken-down
folks of any kind at all is"--here Dr. Surtaine paused, looked about his
entranced audience, and delivered himself of his climax in a voice of
thunder:

"CEREBREAD!"

The word passed from mouth to mouth, in accents of experimentation,
admiration, and acceptance.

"Cere, from cerebellum, the brain, and bread the universal food. I doped
it out myself, and as soon as I hit on it I shipped Belford Couch
straight to Europe to get the backing. I wouldn't take a million for
that name, to-day.

"See what you can do with a proposition of that sort! It hasn't got any
drugs in it, so we won't have to label it under the law. It ain't
medical; so the most particular newspaper and magazines won't kick on
the advertising. Yet, with the copy I'm getting up on it, we can put it
over to cure more troubles than Certina ever thought of curing. Only we
won't use the word 'cure,' of course. All we have to do is to ram it
into the public that all its troubles are nervous and brain troubles.
'Cerebread' restores the brain and rebuilds the nerves, and there you
are, as good as new. Is that some plan? Or isn't it!"

There was a ripple of applausive comment.

"What's in it?" inquired Lauder, the factory superintendent.

"Millions in it, my boy," cried the other jubilantly. "We'll be
manufacturing by New Year's."

"That's the point. _What'll_ we be manufacturing?"

"By crikey! That reminds me. Haven't settled that yet. Might as well do
it right now," said the presiding genius of the place with Olympian
decision. "Dr. De Vito, what's the newest wrinkle in brain-food?"

"Brain-food?" hesitated the little physician. "Something new?"

"Yes, yes!" cried the charlatan impatiently. "What's the fad now? It
used to be phosphorus."

"Ye-es. Phosphorus, maybe. Maybe some kind of hypophosphite, eh?"

"Sounds all right. Could you get up a preparation of it that looks tasty
and tastes good?"

"Sure. Easy."

"Fine! I'll send you down the advertising copy, so you'll have that to
go by. And now, gentlemen, we'