“It is most fortunate that we met you, Professor Snodgrass,” spoke Professor Bailey, when the things had been cleared from the table. “We thought there was some value in the clay of the swamp, but it needed your specific line of knowledge to bring it out. We are deeply indebted to you.”
“Oh, not so much as you imagine,” was the professor’s answer. “My accidental visit to the swamp resulted in the finding of several valuable entomological specimens. And I have not yet despaired of finding the two-tailed lizard here. I must resume my search to-morrow.”
The professor, who was stopping at the hotel in Bellport, sought his room, leaving the two men, in the house they had engaged not far from the hostelry, gazing thoughtfully at each other.
“He put us on the right track,” said Fussel.
“He sure did,” agreed his companion. “And as soon as we have the widow’s land we won’t need to keep under cover any longer. Once we have the deed we can announce our discovery, and I guess the stock of the Universal Plaster Company won’t soar! Oh, no!”
“It will be a big thing,” agreed the other. “Medicated clay—no more flaxseed poultices or mustard plasters. The new method will receive the indorsement of all physicians. There’ll be a fortune in it for all of us.”
“And the best of it is that no one around here suspects what we are up to,” went on Fussel. “We’ve fooled ’em all!”
“And we mustn’t let this Snodgrass give us away,” cautioned Bailey. “We must get rid of him, now that he has shown us how to use the clay.”
“That’s right. I hope it works on Bill.”
And it did. The new plaster mixture did all that was expected of it. The swelling was all gone from Bill’s inflamed knee next morning, and the pain much less.