brave to cling to the boat."

"You bet he _was_, and if ever you need money, you come to me, for I'm
the boy that's got it in the yellow!"

Corkey bows himself down the steps. There two managers of museums
implore a few moments' conversation. They tender their cards.

"Naw!" says Corkey, "we don't want no museum."

The managers persist.

"No use o' your chinning us! Go on, now!"

The heroes escape from their persecutors. The mind of Corkey reverts
to the parlors of Esther Lockwin.

"Great Caesar!" he exclaims.

"Yessah!"

"Steer me to a bar!"

A few moments later Corkey leans sidewise against a whisky counter, his
left foot on the iron rail, his hand on the glass. A mouthful of
tobacco is gnawed from the biggest and blackest of plugs. The mascot
stands by the stove.

The bartender is proud to serve the only Corkey, the most famous man on
the whole "Levee." While the bartender burns incense, the square mouth