"I know," cries the shrill soprano, "that my--Redeemer liveth." There comes upon the widow's face an ecstatic look of hope. She will meet her husband in heaven, and he will praise her love and fidelity. "God bless her!" writes the Eau Claire reporter, and hastily scratches the sentence as he reads it. A messenger approaches the reporters. A note is passed along. "I got to go!" whispers Corkey, "you can stay. They sent for me at the office. I guess something's up." David Lockwin is only too glad to escape. He dreads to leave Esther, yet what is Esther to him? He will hurry away to New York before he falls into the abyss that opens before him. "Do you suppose she loved her husband as much as it seems?" he asks. "I wish she'd love me a quarter as much, though I'm a married man. Love him! Well, I should say!" Corkey tries to be loquacious. But his dark face grows darker. "Oh! it's bad business. I'm sorry for her, and it knocks me out, I ain't my old self. I got up feeling beautiful, and it just knocks me. 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. "Pardner, I wouldn't like to see him come back, though. I'd be sorry for him. Think of the racket he'd have to take!" "What time does the train start for New York?" asks Lockwin. "Panic! Panic! Panic!" is the deafening cry of the newsboys. The two men join a crowd in front of a telegraph office. Bulletins are on a board and in the windows. Men are rushing about. The scene is in strange contrast with the sylvan drama which is closing far to the north, where the choir is singing "Asleep in Jesus." There is a financial crash on the New York Stock Exchange. Bank after bank is failing. "The New State's Fund Closes," is the latest bulletin. "I got pretty near a thousand cases," says Corkey, "but you bet your sweet life she ain't in no bank. I put my money in the vaults."