"Will I?" says I. "I'll advance you twenty to take him away, and charge it up to him. But what'll you do with him?" "Start the Tutwater Sanatorium for Deranged Millionaires," says he. "There's a fortune in it. May I leave him here for an hour or so?" "What for?" says I. "Until I can engage my chief of staff," says he. "Say, Tutty," says I, "do you really mean to put over a bluff the size of that?" "I've thought it all out," says he. "I can do it." "All right, blaze ahead," says I; "but I'm bettin' you land in the lockup inside of twenty-four hours." What do you think, though? By three o'clock he comes back, towin' a spruce, keen eyed young chap that he introduces as Dr. McWade. He's picked him up over at Bellevue, where he found him doin' practice work in the psychopathic ward. On the strength of that I doubles my grubstake, and he no sooner gets his hands on the two sawbucks than he starts for the street. "Here, here!" says I. "Where you headed for now?" And Tutwater explains how his first investment is to be a new silk lid, some patent leather shoes, and a silver headed walkin' stick. "Good business!" says I. "You'll need all the front you can carry." And while he's out shoppin' the Doc and me and Swifty Joe lugs the patient up to Tutwater's office without disturbin' his slumbers at all. Well, I didn't see much more of Tutwater that day, for from then on he was a mighty busy man; but as I was drillin' across to the Grand Central on my way home I gets a glimpse of him, sportin' a shiny hat and white spats, just rushin' important into a swell real estate office. About noon next day he stops in long enough to shake hands and say that it's all settled. "Tutwater Sanatorium is a fact," says he. "I have the lease in my pocket." "What is it, some abandoned farm up in Vermont?" says I. "Hardly," says Tutwater, smilin' quiet. "It's Cragswoods; beautiful modern buildings, formerly occupied as a boys' boarding school, fifteen acres of lovely grounds, finest location in Westchester County. We take possession to-day, with our patient." "But, say, Tutwater," says I, "how in blazes did you----" "I produced Fargo," says he. "Dr. McWade has him under complete control and his cure has already begun. It will be finished at Cragswoods. Run up and see us soon. There's the address. So long." Well, even after that, I couldn't believe he'd really pull it off. Course, I knew he could make Fargo's name go a long ways if he used it judicious; but to launch out and hire an estate worth half a million--why he was makin' a shoestring start look like a sure thing.