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did you weigh at birth? Ten pounds? A fine bouncing baby boy. They don't
come so big anymore."
"What is all this flubdubbery?"
"I am trying to approximate the average cross section of our long pink
conductor, my dear Luke. Now will you seat yourself here? Then place this
electrode in your mouth. No, it will not hurt you; the voltage is quite
low, less than one micro-volt, but I must have a good connection." The
doctor left him and went behind his apparatus, where he lowered a hood over
his head before touching his controls. Some of the exposed dials came to
life and a low humming came from the machine. It stopped and the doctor
popped out of his little hideway.
"I get sometime in February, 1902. Who has the piece of paper with the
date?"
It was produced and unfolded. The custodian read, "February 22, 1902."
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The stillness that followed was broken by a voice from the edge of the
little group, "Doc, can I have another drink?"
The tension relaxed, and several spoke at once: "Try it on me, doc." "Me
first, doc; I'm an orphan and really want to know." "How about it, doc?
Give us all a little loose play."
He smilingly complied, ducking in and out of the hood like a gopher from
its hole. When they all had twin slips of paper to prove the doctor's
skill, Luke broke a long silence.
"How about showing how you predict death, Pinero?"
No one answered. Several of them nudged Luke forward. "Go ahead, smart guy.
You asked for it." He allowed himself to be seated in the chair. Pinero
changed some of the switches, then entered the hood. When the humming
ceased he came out, rubbing his hands briskly together.
"Well, thats all there is to see, boys. Got enough for a story?"
"Hey, what about the prediction? When does Luke get his 'thirty'?"
Luke faced him. "Yes, how about it?"
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Pinero looked pained. "Gentlemen, I am surprised at you. I give that
information for a fee. Besides, it is a professional confidence. I never
tell anyone but the client who consults me."
"I don't mind. Go ahead and tell them."
"I am very sorry. I really must refuse. I only agreed to show you how; not
to give the results."
Luke ground the butt of his cigarette into the floor. "It's a hoax, boys.
He probably looked up the age of every reporter in town just to be ready to
pull this. It won't wash, Pinero."
Pinero gazed at him sadly. "Are you married, my friend?"
"No."
"Do you have anyone dependent on you? Any close relatives?"
"No. Why? Do you want to adopt me?"
Pinero shook his head. "I am very sorry for you, my dear Luke. You will die
before tomorrow."
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DEATH PUNCHES TIME CLOCK
. . . within twenty minutes of Pinero's strange pre-
diction, Timons was struck by a falling sign while
walking down Broadway toward the offices of the
Daily Herald where he was employed.
Dr. Pinero declined to comment but confirmed the
story that he had predicted Timons' death by means
of his so-called chronovitameter. Chief of Police
Roy. . . .
Does the FUTURE worry you??????
Don't waste money on fortune-tellers-
Consult
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Dr. Hugo Pinero, Bio-Consultant
He will help you plan for the future
by infallible
SCIENTIFIC METHODS
No "Spirit' Messages
$10,000 Bond posted in forfeit to back
our predictions
Circular on request
SANDS of TIME, Inc.
Majestie Bldg., Suite 700
( adv. )
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Legal Notice
To whom it may concern, greetings; I, John Cabot Winthrop III, of the firm
of Winthrop, Winthrop, Ditmars and Winthrop, Attorney-at-law, do affirm
that Hugo Pinero of this city did hand to me ten thousand dollars in lawful
money of the United States, and did instruct me to place it in escrow with
a chartered bank of my selection with escrow instructions as follows:
The entire bond shall be forfeit, and shall forthwith be paid to the first
client of Hugo Pinero and/or Sands of Time, Inc., who shall exceed his life
tenure as predicted by Hugo Pinero by one per centum, or the estate of the
first client who shall fail of such predicted tenure in a like amount,
whichever occurs first in point of time.
Subscribed and sworn,
John Cabot Winthrop III.
Subscribed and sworn to before
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me this 2nd day of April, 1939.
Albert M. Swanson
Notary Public in and for this
county and State My commission
expires June 17, 1939.
"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Radio Audience, let's go to press! Flash! Hugo
Pinero, the Miracle Man from Nowhere, has made his thousandth death
prediction without anyone claiming the reward he offered to the first
person who catches him failing to call the turn. With thirteen of his
clients already dead, it is mathematically certain that he has a private
line to the main office of the Old Man with the Scythe. That is one piece
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