"
"Yes, and the people buy it, and read it, and call for more," said
the Professor.
"Possibly because they love notoriety," said Kelly, "and they think
if they call for more often enough, he will finally peep in at their
key-holes and write them up. If he ever puts me into one of his
books I'll waylay him at night and amputate his writing-hand."
"He won't," said the Professor. "I asked him once why he didn't, and
he said you'd never do in one of his books, because you don't belong
to real life at all. He thinks you are some new experiment of an
enterprising Providence, and he doesn't want to use you until he sees
how you turn out."
"He could put me down as I go," suggested the Doctor.
"That's so," replied the other. "I told him so, but he said he had
no desire to write a lot of burlesque sketches containing no coherent
idea."
"Oh, he said that, did he?" observed the Doctor, with a smile.
"Well--wait till Stuart Harley comes to me for a prescription. I'll
get even with him. I'll give him a pill, and he'll disappear--for
ten days.
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