“If so,” returned Hartley, the impractical man, “I infer from your anxiety and extraordinary generosity that I can sell it for enough to pay you and make a little margin for myself. Besides, you can’t collect from a crazy man, Connorton; and I’m getting crazier every minute. Business always goes to my head, Connorton. You must have noticed that up in the woods. I’m really becoming alarmed about myself. But perhaps you’d rather do business with a conservator, Connorton.”
“A half interest,” urged Connorton, desperately, as he mentally reviewed the weakness of his own position in view of the unsuspected perspicacity of the inventor. “Consider that I have paid you twenty-five thousand dollars for a half interest, and the other half is yours. I’ll defray whatever expense is incurred in marketing the invention, too.”
Hartley reflected, seeming in doubt. “Connorton,” he said at last, “I think I am still getting the worst of it somewhere, but an impractical fellow like me deserves to get the worst of it. Go ahead! Have that agreement put in legal form, and then you may get me out while there is yet time to save my reason.”
CONNORTON had finished his appeal for the release of Hartley.
“Of course,” he was told, “if you and Mr. Paulson will assume the responsibility, and will immediately take him away, we shall be glad to let you have him; but he is undoubtedly demented.”
“Demented!” snorted Connorton. “Say! you try to do business with him, and you’ll think he’s the sanest man that ever lived!”
THE MARVELOUS MUNCHAUSEN
BY WILLIAM ROSE BENÉT