designer say with a chuckle, and his father reply: "If I could I'd start
another proprietary as big as Certina."

"Where does that lead to?" inquired Hal, as they approached a side
passage sloping slightly down, and barred by a steel door.

"The old building. The manufacturing department is over there."

"Compounding the medicine, you mean?"

"Yes. Bottling and shipping, too."

"Aren't we going through?"

"Why, yes: if you like. You won't find much to interest you, though."

Nor, to Hal's surprise, did Dr. Surtaine himself seem much concerned
with this phase of the business. Apparently his hand was not so close in
control here as in the other building. The men seemed to know him less
well.

"All this pretty well runs itself," he explained negligently.

"Don't you have to keep a check on the mixing, to make sure it's right?"

"Oh, they follow the formula. No chance for error."

They walked amidst chinking trucks, some filled with empty, some with
filled and labeled bottles, until they reached the carton room where
scores of girls were busily inserting the bottles, together with folded