I don't think she ought to build no monument, nor no hospital, for it
keeps her hoping. What's the use of hoping? I'll find that yawl.
Curious about that yawl. Wouldn't it be great stuff if he should show
up? Wonder what he'd think of his monument and his hospital? A
hospital, now, ain't so bad. You could take his name off it. They'll
do that some day, anyhow, I reckon. I've seen the name changed on a
good many signs in Chicago. But what's a monument good for after the
duck has showed up? Old man, wouldn't it be a sensation? Seven
columns!"

Corkey slaps his leg. He quakes his head. The little tongue plays
about the black tobacco. He sneezes. The passengers are generally
upset.

A substantial woman of fifty, out collecting her rents, expostulates in
a sharp voice.

A girl of seventeen laughs in a manner foreboding hysteria.

The conductor flies to the scene.

"None o' that in here!" he cries, frowning majestically on Corkey.

"Don't you be so gay, or I'll get you fired off the road," answers the
cause of all the commotion.

"Randolph street!" yells the conductor in a great voice.

The irate and insulted Corkey debarks with Lockwin.