“While I’m very glad,” he suggested, “to give you what time you need—­”

“I’ve come here because I wanted to have this thing out with you face to face.”

“Well, have it out,” returned the other, smiling but wary.

The young clergyman drew from his pocket a folded newspaper page to which was pinned an oblong of paper.  This he detached and extended to the other.

“What’s that?” asked the doctor, making no motion to receive it, for he instantly recognized it.

“Your check.”

“You’re returning it?”

“Without thanks.”

“You mean to turn down two thousand dollars!” demanded the other in slow incredulity.

“Exactly.”

“Why?”

“Is that question asked in good faith?”

“It is.”

“Then you haven’t seen the letter written by the superintendent of our Sunday School to the Certina Company.”

“What kind of a letter?”

“A testimonial letter—­for which your two thousand dollars is payment, I suppose.”

“Two thousand for a church testimonial!” Dr. Surtaine chuckled at his caller’s innocence.  “Why, I wouldn’t pay that for a United States Senator.  Besides,” he added virtuously, “Certina doesn’t buy its testimonials.”

“Then it’s an unfortunate coincidence that your check should have come right on top of Mr. Smithson’s very ill-advised letter.”

By a regular follow-up mechanism devised by himself, every donation by Dr. Surtaine was made the basis of a shrewd attempt to extract from the beneficiary an indorsement of Certina’s virtues, or, if not that, of the personal character and professional probity of its proprietor.  This is what had happened in the instance of the check to Mr. Hale’s church, Smithson being the medium through whom the attempt was made.

The quack saw no occasion to explain this to his inquisitor.  So he merely said:  “I never saw any such letter,” which was, in a literal sense, true.

“Nor will you know anything about it, I suppose, until the name of the church is spread broadcast through your newspaper advertising.”

Now, it is a rule of the patent medicine trade never to advertise an unwilling testimonial because that kind always has a kick-back.  Hence:—­

“Oh, if you feel that way about it,” said Dr. Surtaine disdainfully, “I’ll keep it out of print.”

“And return it to me,” continued the other, in a tone of calm sequentiality, which might represent either appeal, suggestion, or demand.

“Don’t see the point,” said the quack shortly.

“Since you do not intend to use it in your business, it can’t be of any value to you,” countered the other.

“What’s its value to you?”

“In plain words, the honor of my church is involved.  The check is a bribe.  The letter is the graft.”

“Nothing of the sort.  You come here, a minister of the gospel,” Dr. Surtaine reproached him sorrowfully, “and use hard words about a transaction that is perfectly straight business and happens every day.”