One evening, after we had been a few weeks in Deep Harbor, Knowlton
arrived at my rooms as soon as he had had supper.
"Teddy, I've got a new job for you and one that'll keep you--well, it'll
keep you pretty busy." There was one comforting thing about Knowlton, he
never beat about the bush.
"What is it?" I asked anxiously.
"I've just hired a chemical assistant for you."
"Is that all?"
"No, it's much more complicated than that. This fellow is an old
inventor--a kind of genius. At any rate, I've got faith in him. He
dreams dreams and sees visions, like the fellow in the Bible--Job,
wasn't it? I guess you know what I mean. But he has two serious
drawbacks. He isn't practical--not the least idea of the value of money.
It's up to you to see he does economically what he's told. The other
drawback is that he drinks and is thoroughly unreliable. You've got to
keep him straight and keep him away from the booze. His favourite
occupation, aside from chemistry, is alternating Bass's ale with brandy
and Benedictine. Then he gets ugly and his experiments suffer. When he's
sober, he's a wonder."