mine in Mexico. The doctor has
climbed the volcano of Popocatapetl. His six-story hotel in Chicago is
leased on a bond for five years. He has a nugget of gold from his
mine. His health is capital. He is at the mental and physical
antipodes of his friend. Talk of Mexican summer resorts and Chicago
real estate is to the doctor's taste. He is not prepared for Lockwin's
recital.

"Your Davy, my poor fellow, had no constitution. Mind you, I do not
say he would have died had I remained at my office. I do not say that.
Of course, it was highly important that his stomach should be
preserved. You fell in the hands of a Dr. Flod--let me see our list.
Why, by heavens! his name is not down at all!"

Dr. Floddin's name is not in the medical peerage. Dr. Floddin,
therefore, does not exist.

"Well, David, let us speak of it no more. You were entrapped. How
about this Congress? I tell you that you must go. You must do exactly
as our leader directs."

Lockwin is elected, and he is not. He received the most votes, but
great frauds were openly perpetrated. Without the false votes Corkey
would have been elected. There is to be a contest in the lower House.
The majority of the party in the House is only three, with two
republicans on sick beds in close districts.

Interest in the Chicago affair is overshadowing. The President's
private secretary has commissioned the Chicago political boss to fix it
up.

Corkey is an unknown factor. The boss assures the administration that
the district would be lost if Corkey should win.

What does Corkey want?

"I was elected," says Corkey.

"You don't carry the papers," answers the boss.

"I just made you fellers screw your nut for 2,000 crooked votes," says
Corkey.

"None of your sailors had the right to vote," says the boss. "Now,
here, Corkey, you are going to lose that certificate. It doesn't
belong to you, and we've got the House. Here's a telegram from a high
source: 'Lockwin must get the election at all hazards. See Corkey.'
I'll tell you what you do. You and Lockwin go on and see the
President."

"That will never do," says Corkey. "But I'll tell you what I will do."

"Go on."

"Do you know I've a notion that Lockwin ain't goin' to serve. If he
resigns, I want it. If he catches on, all right. I want him or you to
get me collector of the port. You hear me? Collector of the port.
His nobs, this collector we have now--he must get out, I don't care
ho