trouble. It is, therefore, time for Lockwin to give him sympathy.
"Corkey is a good fellow," thinks Lockwin, gazing contentedly on his
caller.

"I'm afraid it ain't no use," says Corkey, half to himself. "I ain't
had no luck since I let the mascot go to the league nine," he says,
more audibly.

"I am quite happy," Lockwin says. "It will be a sufficient reward to
look like other folks. Only a few weeks of this. But it is a trial."

"It's more of a trial, old man, than I like to see you undertake."

"Yet I am happy. It will be a success. Wonderful, isn't it?"

"Pretty wonderful!" Yet Corkey does not look it.

The man in the bandages thinks upon what he has suffered with his face.
He blesses the day he was permitted by Providence to stop that runaway.
All is coming about in good order. It needed the patience of love--of
love, the impatient. He is so sanguine to-day that he must push Corkey
a little regarding that scheme.

"Yes, it is wonderful!" says Corkey with affected animation, recovering
his presence of mind.

"Have you been over at our friend's lately?" The question comes with
the deepest excitement. The countenance of Corkey falls instantly.

"Yes, just come from there."