“‘I didn’t know, but I knew you were in training,’ I answered. ‘Yesterday morning a charitably inclined female presented me with three biscuits, a piece of cheese, and a funereal slab of chocolate cake, all wrapped in the current Clarion, wherein I noted an unholy glee because the Cowbell’s candidate for chief of police had been turned down. Likewise I learned the municipal election was at hand, and put two and two together. Another mayor, and the right kind, means new police commissioners; new police commissioners means new chief of police; new chief of police means Cowbell’s candidate; ergo, your turn to play.’ “He stood up, shook my hand, and emptied his plethoric vest pocket. I put them away and puffed on the old one. “‘You’ll do,’ he jubilated. ‘This stuff’ (patting my copy) ‘is the first gun of the campaign. You’ll touch off many another before we’re done. I’ve been looking for you for years. Come on in on the editorial.’ “But I shook my head. “‘Come, now!’ he admonished sharply. ‘No shenanagan! The Cowbell must have you. It hungers for you, craves after you, won’t be happy till it gets you. What say?’ “In short, he wrestled with me, but I was bricks, and at the end of half an hour the only Spargo gave it up. “‘Remember,’ he said, ‘any time you reconsider, I’m open. No matter where you are, wire me and I’ll send the ducats to come on at once.’ “I thanked him, and asked the pay for my copy—dope, he called it. “‘Oh, regular routine,’ he said. ‘Get it the first Thursday after publication.’ “‘Then I’ll have to trouble you for a few scad until—’ “He looked at me and smiled. ‘Better cough up, eh?’ “‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Nobody to identify me, so make it cash.’ “And cash it was made, thirty plunks (a plunk is a dollar, my dear Anak), and I pulled my freight ... eh?—oh, departed. “‘Pale youth,’ I said to Cerberus, ‘I am bounced.’ (He grinned with pallid joy.) ‘And in token of the sincere esteem I bear you, receive this little—’ (His eyes flushed and he threw up one hand, swiftly, to guard his head from the expected blow)—‘this little memento.’ “I had intended to slip a fiver into his hand, but for all his surprise, he was too quick for me. “‘Aw, keep yer dirt,’ he snarled. “‘I like you still better,’ I said, adding a second fiver. ‘You grow perfect. But you must take it.’ “He backed away growling, but I caught him round the neck, roughed what little wind he had out of him, and left him doubled up with the two fives in his pocket. But hardly had the elevator started, when the two coins tinkled on the roof and fell down between the car and the shaft. As luck had it, the door was not closed, and I put out my hand and caught them. The elevator boy’s eyes bulged. “‘It’s a way I have,’ I said, pocketing them. “‘Some bloke’s dropped ‘em down the shaft,’ he whispered, awed by the circumstance. “‘It stands to reason,’ said I. “‘I’ll take charge of ‘em,’ he volunteered. “‘Nonsense!’