entrance fee to the pavilion--all contributions are strictly voluntary."

"That's all right," said Helena. "But of course we can't really cure
them. We can get them going hard enough to make them think they are for
awhile, but after they've thrown away their crutches and got back
home--what then?"

"Well, what then?" inquired Doc Madison easily.

"They'll yell 'fake!' and swear out warrants," said Helena, her dark
eyes studying Doc Madison.

"Not according to statistics," replied Doc Madison, and his lips
twitched quizzically at the corners. "According to statistics they'll
buy another crutch and come back to buck the tiger again. Say, Helena,
to-morrow, you go up to the public library and read up on
shrines--they've been running since the ark--and they're running still.
You never heard any howl about them, did you? What's the answer to those
cures?"

"That's different," said Helena. "That's religion, and they've got
relics and things."

"It's faith," said Doc Madison, "and it doesn't matter what the basis of
it is. Faith, Helena, _faith_--get that? And we're going to imbue them
with a faith that'll set them crazy and send them into hysterics. And
talk about relics! Haven't we got one? Look at the Patriarch! Can't you
see the whole town yelling 'I told you so!' and swopping testimonials
hard enough to crowd the print down so fine, if you tried to get it all
into the papers, that you'd have to use a magnifying glass to read it,