box. "This, so generally considered excellent in election season, has
not even been nibbled at. Perhaps your sagacity, which, in spite of
this unfortunate contretemps, no one can doubt," added the Devil, with
a graceful return to his usual courtesy, "may explain the reason or
suggest a substitute."

The broker glanced at the contents of the box with a supercilious smile.
"Too old-fashioned, my lord,--long ago played out. Yet," he added,
with a gleam of interest, "for a consideration I might offer
something--ahem!--that would make a taking substitute for these trifles.
Give me," he continued, in a brisk, business-like way, "a slight
percentage and a bonus down, and I'm your man."

"Name your terms," said the Devil, earnestly.

"My liberty and a percentage on all you take, and the thing's done."

The Devil caressed his tail thoughtfully, for a few moments. He was
certain of the broker any way, and the risk was slight. "Done!" he said.

"Stay a moment," said the artful broker. "There are certain
contingencies. Give me your fishing-rod and let me apply the bait
myself. It requires a skilful hand, my lord; even your well-known
experience might fail. Leave me alone for half an hour, and if you have
reason to complain of my success I will forfeit my deposit,--I mean my
liberty."

The Devil acceded to his request, bowed, and withdrew. Alighting
gracefully in Montgomery Street, he dropped into Meade & Co.'s clothing
store, where, having completely equipped himself a la mode, he sallied