ed at the White
House on their morning rounds were regaled by a confidential glimpse
into the cards and the cabinets. It is likely that the whole outfit
will be filed in the Department of Commerce and Labour, and will
constitute the basis of what is called around the White House
to-day, a 'National Rogues' Gallery.' The complete details of every
senatorial election held in the country during twelve years last
past, showing how to reach any Senator susceptible to any influence
whatsoever, whether political, social, or religious, are among the
trophies of the chase in the hands of the Mighty Hunter for Big Game
to-day."

When General Ward had finished reading, he lifted up his glasses and
said: "Well, that's it, boys; John has come to his turn of the road.
Here's the rest. It says: 'The corporation in question is practically
controlled by one man, the man who has placed the information above
mentioned in the hands of the government. It is a corporation owning
no physical property whatever, and is organized as a rebate hopper, if
one may so style it. The head of the corporation stated when he was
here recently that he is preparing to buy in every share of the
company's stock at the price for which it was sold and then--' Jake,
where is page 3 with the rest of this article on it?" asked the
general.

"Why, I threw that away coming down here," responded Dolan.

"Rather leaves us in the air--doesn't it?" suggested the colonel.

"Well, it's John. I know enough to know that--from Neal," said the
general.

The afternoon sun was shining in the south window of the shop. Dolan
started to go. In the doorway McHurdie halted him.

"Jake," he cried, pointing a lean, smutty finger at Dolan, "Jake
Dolan, if there are only two people in the world, what becomes of me
when you begin talking to Mart? If you knew, you would not dodge. In
philosophy no man can stand on his constitutional rights. Turn state's
evidence, Jake Dolan, and tell the truth--what becomes of me?"

"'Tis an improper question," replied Dolan, and then drawing himself
up and pulling down the front of his coat, he added, "'Tis not a
matter that may be discussed among gentlemen," and with that he
disappeared.

The front door-bell tinkled, and the parliament prepared to adjourn.
The colonel helped the poet close his store and bring in the wooden
horse from the sidewalk, and then Molly Brownwell came with her
phaeton and drove