One congressman, a hundred wood-choppers and fourteen miscellaneous
lives have been lost in Georgian Bay.

It is the epoch of sensational news. A life is a life. The valiant
night editor places before his readers the loss of 115 congressmen, for
a wood-chopper is as good as a congressman.

And while the theory that 115 congressmen have gone down astounds and
horrifies the subscriber, it might be different if that many
congressmen of the opposite party should really be sent to the bottom.

The conditions for conventional news are, therefore, perfect. Upon the
length of the report depends the reputation of the newspaper. The
newspaper with the widest circulation must have the longest string of
type and the blackest letters in its headings.

Corkey works for that paper.

"Give us your full story," demand his four saviors.

The mascot stammers so that communication with him is restricted to his
answers of yes and no.

It is therefore Corkey's duty to the nation to tell all he has
witnessed. He conceals nothing.

"It ain't much I know about it," he says; "she was rotten and she go
down."