ring of the devout and the curious he dwells upon the
uncertainties of life. Here, indeed, was a Chicagoan who but yesterday
was almost certain to be President of the United States.

"Now his beloved body, my dear brethren and fellow-citizens, lies
buried in the sands of an unfrequented sea."

There is suppressed emotion.

"And as for man," chants the harmonious choir, "his days are as grass."

"As a flower of the field," sounds the bass.

"So he flourisheth," answers the soft alto.

"For the wind passeth over it," sings the tenor.

"And it is gone," proclaims the treble.

"And the place thereof shall know it no more," breathes the full choir,
preparing to shout that the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to
everlasting upon them that fear Him.

It is found that Lockwin had hosts of friends. There is so much
inquiry on account of that strange journey to Owen Sound that the
political boss is grievously disturbed.

Corkey is not blind to this general uneasiness. He reads the posters
and the advertisements. He whistles. It is a sum of money worthy of
deep consideration.

"You offered to l-le-end to her," observes the mascot.

"Well, if she had needed the stuff she'd a been after it soon enough,
wouldn't she? I don't offer it to everybody. But that ain't the
point. I'm going after that roll--ten thousand dollars! You want to
come? If I win, you git $500. I reckon that's enough for a kid."

It is a project which is well conceived, for Corkey may easily arrange
for a salary from his great newspaper. To find Lockwin's body would be
a clever feat of journalism, inasmuch as the search has been abandoned
by the other papers.

A delegation of dock-frequenters waits on Corkey to demand that he
shall stand for Congress in the second special election, made necessary
by the death of Lockwin.

"Gentlemen, I'm off on business. I beg to de--de--re--re--drop out!
Please excuse me, and take something."

The touching committees cannot touch Corkey.

"The plant has been sprung," they comment, "His barrel is empty."

Corkey had once been rich when he did not know the value of wealth. He
had been reduced to poverty. On becoming a reporter, he had
laboriously saved $1,000 in gold coins. In a few weeks $300 of this
store had been dissipated.

"And all the good work didn't cost nothing, either," thinks Corkey.

Would it not be wise now to keep the $700 that remain? When the vision
of a contest, with Em