Page:Weird Tales Volume 44 Number 7 (1952-11).djvu/46

It all started one morning when Orville Rausch came gasping into my laboratory, waving his tiny hands.

"I have it!" he yelled.

As chemical analyst at his winery I was, of course, quite interested, in what he might have. He was a tireless source of new ideas, of formidable advertising projects and endless schemes to beat and smash his competition. Rausch was a quaint mixture of crackpot and business wizard and sometimes quite admirable.

'What is it, sir?" I asked.

"Zerobnick's secret! I have it—we're going to bring it on the market first!"

Clem Zerobnick, Excellos Wineries, was Rausch's great rival. Lately he had become his great obsession. When Zerobnick dropped prices, Rausch had to follow; and when the other bought fifty inches of advertising, Rausch gobbled up a whole page.

"What secret?" I asked.

"It's a revolution in wine making! A fabulous discovery! From Mexico. They discovered a wild grape. It grows—"

"Excuse me," I said. "Grapes are somewhat rare in Mexico. I—"

"They were. But they aren't now," he raved. They have grafted these on cactus—they grow like wildfire."

"Cactus?" I said dubiously.

His receding chin went up and down, scraping against the wilted shirt collar.

I moved away from him. "You mean they're producing wine—"