that was practically unattainable。 All I wanted to be was the best cockfighter who ever lived。 Doc； who had already reached his late fifties； wanted to be a big…time capitalist and financier。
He wasn't a real doctor； I knew that much。 He was a pharmacist； and a good one； and somewhere along the years he had added Doc to his name。 I had met him several years before at various Florida cockpits； and I had bought conditioning powder and ergot capsules from him when he still had his mail…order business。 Conditioning powder can be made up by any pharmacist who is given the formula； but Doc was dependable； well liked by cockers； and he had also invented a salve that was a quick healer for battered cocks。 However； there are a lot of businessmen who advertise the same types of items in the cocker journals。 There wasn't enough big money in cocker medical supplies for Doc； and he dropped out of the field。 However； he would stifi supply a few friends like myself when we wrote to him。
Some four years before； Doc had caught me in an amiable mood and with more than five thousand dollars in my pockets。 I had put eight hundred dollars into his pany…The Dixie Pharmaceutical pany…and I had never received a dividend。 I had had several glowing letters from him； but not a cent in cash。 In fact； I didn't even have any stock certificates to show for my investment。 It was one of those word…of…mouth deals so many of us enter into in the South。 A handshake is enough； and I knew my money would be returned on demand。 。 。 providing Doc had it。 But whether he had it or not was something else altogether。
It was five o'clock and I decided to wait and see him in the morning。 Feeling as low as I did； I didn't want to return to my room with a turndown that evening。
I left my room； walked down the street to a café and ate two hamburgers and drank two glasses of milk。 When I returned to my room； I nipped at the gin and read my new Southern Cockfighter magazine。 The magazine had been published and mailed out before the Belle Glade derby； but there was a short item about the Homestead pitting； and my name was mentioned in Red Carey's column； 〃On the Gaff。〃
Looks like bad luck is still dogging Silent Frank Mansfield。 His sad showing at Homestead makes us wonder if his keeping methods are off the beam。 Another season like his last three； and we doubt if he'll still be on the S。C。 T。 rolls。
The item should have irritated me； but it didn't。 A columnist has to put something in his column； and I was fair game。 There was nothing wrong with my conditioning methods。 They had paid off too many times in the past。 My problem was to get the right cocks； and when I got Icky from Mr。 Middleton； I would be off to a good season。 I finished the rest of the gin and went to bed。
As far back as 320 B。C。 an old poet named Chanakya wrote that a man can learn four things from a cock： To fight； to get up early； to eat with his family； and to protect his spouse when she gets into trouble。 I had learned how to fight and how to get up early； but I had never gotten along too well with my family and I didn't have any spouse to protect。 Fighting was all very well； but getting up early was not the most desirable habit to have when living in a big city like Jacksonville。
The next morning I was up； dressed and shaved； and sitting in the lobby by five thirty。 I bought a morning Times…Union； glanced at the headlines and then went out for breakfast because the hotel coffee shop didn't open until seven thirty。 I lingered as long as I could over coffee； but it was still only six thirty when I returned to the hotel。 I was too impatient just to sit around； and I soon left the dreary lobby and walked the early morning streets。 The wind off the river was chilly and it felt good to be stirring about。 A sickly sun rode the pale morning sky； but after an hour passed it began to get warm and promised to be a good day。
Promptly at eight I entered the Latham building to see if Doc Riordan had arrived at his office。 The Latham building was an ancient red…brick structure of seven stories built in the early 1900s。 Nothing had been done to it since。 The entrance lobby was narrow； grimy and filled with trash blown in from the street。 There was a crude； hand…lettered sign on the elevator stating that it was out of order。 Doc's pany was on the sixth floor。
The stairwell up was unlighted and without windows。 I climbed the six flights only to discover that his office was closed。 The office was two doors away from the far end of the hallway； and the frosted glass top half of the door had gold letters painted on it four inches high：
THE DIXIE PHARMACEUTICAL CO。
Dr。 Onyx P。 Riordan
PRESIDENT AND GENERAL MANGR。
I tried the door and found it locked。 Rather than descend the stairs and then climb up again I leaned against the wall and smoked cigarettes until Doc showed up。
The wait was less than twenty minutes and I heard Doc huffing up the stairs long before I could see him。 He entered the hail； red…faced； carrying a large cardboard container of coffee。 The container was too hot for him to hold fortably； and as he recovered his breath； he kept shifting it from one hand to the other as he fumbled with his key in the door lock。
〃e on in； Frank；〃 Doc said； as he opened the door。 〃Soon as I set this coffee on the desk I'll shake hands。〃
I followed Doc into the tiny office； and we shook hands。 Doc wiped his perspiring bald head and brow with a hankerchief and cursed angrily for two full minutes before he sat down behind his desk。
〃I've told the superintendent before and I'm going to tell him one more time；〃 Doc said as he ran down； 〃and if he don't get that damned elevator fixed； I'm moving out！ That's a fact； Frank； a fact！〃
I sat down in a straight…backed chair in front of Doc's desk； and surveyed his ratty little office。 A single dirty window afforded a close…up of the side of a red…brick movie theater less than three feet away； and the proximity of the building didn't allow much light into the room。 Doc probably had to burn his desk and ceiling lights even at midday。 Doc's desk was a great； wooden； square affair； and much too large for the size of the room。 In front of the fluorescent desk lamp was his carved desk sign： Dr。 Onyx P。 Riordan； Pres。 （and a beautifully carved ornate job it was； too）。 In addition to his desk there was a low two…drawer filing cabinet； the swivel executive； chair he was sitting in； and two straight…backed chairs。 These simple furnishings made the room overly crowded。 On the wall behind his desk was a hand…lettered； professionally done poster in three primary colors praising the virtues of a product called Licarbo。 After reading the poster I studied Doc's face。 He had taken two green dime…store cups out of his desk and was filling theni with black coffee。
With his bald head and tonsure of thin； fine gray hair； Doc looked his fifty some…odd years； all right； but there was a certain youthfulness about his face that denied those years。 His features were all small； gathered together in the center of a round； bland face。 His mouth and snubby nose were small。 His blue eyes were ingenuously wide and revealed the full optic circle。 With his round red cheeks and freshly scrubbed look； Doc could probably have passed for thirty if he wore a black toupee and dyed his eyebrows to match。
〃It's been a long time； Frank；〃 Doc said sincerely； 〃and I'm really glad to see you again。〃 He sat back with a pleased smile。 〃I want to show you something！〃
He began to rummage through his desk。 I sipped some coffee and lit another cigarette from the butt of the one I was smoking。 The sight of this little hole…in…the…wall office had dashed any hopes I might have had about getting even a portion of my money back from the old pharmacist。
〃Read this； Frank！〃 Doc said eagerly； sliding a letter across the broad surface of the desk。 I read the letter。 It was from a drug laboratory in New York。
President
Dixie Pharmaceutical Co。
Latham Building
Jacksonville； Florida
Dear Dr。 Riordan：
We have made exhaustive tests of your product； LICARBO； at your reque