that story soon enough." He was silent a moment, and then added, sadly
and somewhat sternly: "Young man, I have reserved one count in the
total, the biggest and best, for the last. Keep your ear and eye
open--and I mean the inner ear and eye as well as the outer--keep your
mind open, above all keep your heart open, and it will be given you to
understand that we have here the bravest, the sweetest, and the
kindliest people in the world. The Lord has been good to you to send you
among them. This is the word of a man in the late evening of life to one
in the hopeful morning. You will take it, I hope, without offense. Are
you a Democrat, sir?"

"I am a political economist."

The Colonel smiled. "Well said, sir. Science knows no party lines. Your
chosen subject rises above the valley of partisanry where we old
wheel-horses plod--stinging each other in the dust, as the poet finely
says. Mr. West has told me of your laurels."

He went on to outline the business side of what the _Post_ had to
offer. Queed found himself invited to write a certain number of
editorial articles, not to exceed six a week, under the Colonel's
direction. He had his choice of working on space, at the rate of five
dollars per column, payment dependent upon publication; or of drawing a
fixed honorarium of ten dollars per week, whether called on for the
stipulated six articles or for no articles at all. Queed decided to
accept the fixed honorarium, hoping that there would be many weeks when
he would be called on for no articles at all. A provisional arrangement
to run a month was agreed upon.

"I have," said the Colonel, "already sketched out some work for you to