That is, he
gave information of the man which surprised Sweetwater. If in the
past and in New York he had been known as a waiter, or should I
say steward, he was known here as a manufacturer of patent
medicine designed to rejuvenate the human race. He had not been
long in town and was somewhat of a stranger yet, but he wouldn't
be so long. He was going to make things hum, he was. Money for
this, money for that, a horse where another man would walk, and
mail--well, that alone would make this post-office worth while.
Then the drugs ordered by wholesale. Those boxes over there were
his, ready to be carted out to his manufactory. Count them, some
one, and think of the bottles and bottles of stuff they stand
for. If it sells as he says it will--then he will soon be rich:
and so on, till Sweetwater brought the garrulous Dick to a
standstill by asking whether Wellgood had been away for any
purpose since he first came to town. He received the reply that
he had just come home from New York, where he had been for some
articles needed in his manufactory. Sweetwater felt all his
convictions confirmed, and ended the colloquy with the final
question:
"And where is his manufactory? Might be worth visiting, perhaps."
The other made a gesture, said something about northwest and
rushed to help a customer.
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