Five minutes later, while Mr. McQuiggan was running over some proofs which he had brought with him, Dr. Surtaine walked into the office. There was about him a formidable smoothness, as of polished metal. He greeted his old friend with a nod and a cool "Back again, I see, Elpy."
"And doing business at the old stand," rejoined his friend. "Worthington's the place where the dollars grow, all right."
"Grow, and stay," said Dr. Surtaine.
"Meaning?" inquired McQuiggan solicitously.
"That you've over-medicated this field."
"Have I got any dollars away from you, Andy?"
"No. But you have from my people."
"Well, their money's as good to buy booze with as anybody else's, I reckon."
Dr. Surtaine had sat down, directly opposite the visitor, fronting him eye-to-eye. Nothing loath, McQuiggan accepted the challenge. His hard, brisk voice, with a sub-tone of the snarl, crossed the Doctor's strong, heavy utterance like a rapier engaging a battle-axe. Both assumed a suavity of manner felt to be just at the breaking point. The two spectators sat, surprised and expectant.
"I don't suppose," said Dr. Surtaine, after a pause, "there's any use trying to get you to refund."