its
kind in the world. It was enchanted.

"Mr. Osborne, you've done me a real service. I would not take a small
fortune for this letter. I don't recollect how I came to lose it. Must
have taken it out and dropped it accidentally. Thanks."

"Don't mention it, my boy." Very few called him Mr. Osborne.

"It is worth a good deal to me. Would you be offended if I gave you
ten as a reward?"

"I'd feel hurt, Richard, but not offended," a twinkle in the watery
eyes.

Warrington laughed, drew out his wallet and handed William a crisp,
crackly bank-note. It went, neatly creased, into William's sagging
vest-pocket.

"Have a cigarette?" asked Warrington.

"Richard, there's one thing I never did, and that's smoke one of those
coffin-nails. Whisky and tobacco are all right, but I draw the line at
cigarettes."

Warrington passed him a cigar. William bit off the end and lighted it.
He sniffed with evident relish.

"Seems impossible, Richard, that only a few years ago you were a
reporter at the police station. But I always said that you'd get there
some day. You saw the dramatic side of the simplest case. I knew your
father. He was one of the best farmers in the county. But he didn't
know how to invest his savings. He ought to have left you rich."

"But he didn't. After all, it's a fine thing to make for the good
things in life and win them yourself."

"That's true. You're a different breed from some of these people who
are your neighbors. We're all mighty proud of you, here in
Herculaneum. What you want to do is to get into politics." Here Bill
winked mysteriously. "You've money and influence, and that's what
counts."

"I'm seriously thinking the thing over," returned Warrington, not
quite understanding the wink.

"Everything's on the bum in town; it wants a clean bill. McQuade must
go. The man never keeps a promise. Told me in the presence of
witnesses, last election, that he'd give me a job on the new police
board; and yet after election he put in one of those whipper-snappers
who know nothing. Of course, you've been in town long enough to know
that Donnelly is simply McQuade's creature. I never had any luck."

"Oh, it may change by and by." Warrington, at that moment, felt
genuinely sorry for the outcast.

Bill twirled his hat. "You've never laughed at me, Richard; you've
always treated me like a gentleman, which I was once. I didn't mail
that letter because I wanted to see if you had changed any. If you had
be