After the Prof has gone away, old Jode says scornful that he is strictly a small-time operator, and he doubts if he ever took over a customer for as much as a grand in all his life. But he figures Prof is ripe for plenty more than this first installment, which is what Jode wants. Up in our rooms, he is still grinning with all his chins and wattles.
"A lovely business, eh, Buck? Convincin', too! Can't you picture how Vachti will fall for this Elixir of Youth proposition? He'll see himself young, surrounded by pretty girls...."
"Can't you picture how Vachti will fall for this Elixir of Youth proposition? He'll see himself young, surrounded by pretty girls...."
"I know of a coupla science-fiction writers coulda done it better," I say, detached. "But it's good enough. It would take a good man to find a hole in that theory. In fact, it would prob'ly work."
"Huh?" says Jode.
"It would prob'ly work," I repeat, firm. "That catalyst stuff is good reasonin'. I knew a fella got fired from a silverplatin' plant and he took a file and filed off some powdered bakelite into each one of the platin' baths to get even. The firm near went crazy. The bakelite don't dissolve or anything, but you can't plate when it's in the bath. It's a anticatalyst. Some of those impurities the Prof was talking about must keep the regular chemical actions from takin' place, so you get what he said."
Old Jode sits down and howls.