The hook-like finger tears the black tobacco out of the choking mouth.
The great quid is thrown in the fire. The proposed motion is made, and
the handkerchief is not burned. Down it goes in the hip pocket beside
Corkey's revolver, out of harm's way.

Corkey started to throw something in the fire, and has kept to his
purpose.

"Yessah!" says the mascot, sagaciously.

"Bet your black life!" vows Corkey, as if great things hung by it.

He looks with renewed affection on his protege. "I git you into the
league nine, sure, Noey!"

"Yessah!"

It is plain that the mascot will preserve an admirable reticence.




CHAPTER III

THE CENOTAPH

"TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD.--This sum of money will be paid for the
recovery of the body of the Hon. David Lockwin, lost in Georgian Bay
the morning of Oct. 17. When last seen the body was afloat in the yawl