The other carriers laughed. “I reckon there’s mighty few of us that’ll be there,” said one. “I gave my ticket to a feller that keeps a delicatessen shop on my route, this morning. It wasn’t any use to me.” “Then why on earth did you buy it?” demanded Sheridan indignantly. “For the reason that Pop has just given you--because I want to stand in right with Coggswell,” was the candid reply. “That’s why we all buy ’em each year. It’s Coggswell’s little graft. He knows that we haven’t any use for the tickets, but it’s his pleasant little way of collecting five dollars a year from each of us. Considerin’ the pull he’s got at headquarters, we think it’s a mighty good investment.” “I think it’s a dirty piece of blackmail,” declared Sheridan, his eyes flashing. “Before I’d submit to it, I’d----” “Don’t be rash, son,” broke in Pop Andrews. “That kind of talk sounds good behind the footlights at a theater, but, take it from me, it won’t carry you very far in the service. You’re young and ambitious, you want to get ’way up in the department; take my advice, and win the friendship of the man whose pull can put you there. You might begin by joining his organization. That’s what a good many of the fellows in this branch are doing. They’re wise enough to see the advantage of being a member of the Samuel J. Coggswell Association.” “But I’m on the other side of the fence,” protested Sheridan. “My politics----” “I don’t care what your politics are,” interrupted the grizzled carrier, with a sly wink. “When Election Day comes you can vote whatever way you want. We all do that. Coggswell has no way of telling in which column you put the cross. But in between elections, belong to the organization and whoop it up for Coggswell all you can. In that way you’re sure to bring yourself to the boss’ attention.” “I guess I’ve brought myself to his attention already,” said Sheridan, with a whimsical smile. “You see, Pop, in addition to refusing to buy a ticket, I sent him a message, telling him just what I think of him and his blackmailing methods.” “Phew!” exclaimed several of the carriers, looking at their comrade commiseratingly. Owen Sheridan was very popular with the employees of Branch X Y, and they would have been sorry to see him come to grief. “What sort of a man was this fellow you were up against?” inquired Pop Andrews gravely. “A chap about my own age, I should judge; rather stout, with a red, beefy face, and dressed to kill,” replied Owen. “He had a diamond in his necktie so big that it almost blinded me, and he was smoking a big black cigar that I guess only a politician could afford to buy.” “That was Jake Hines,” declared one of the men. “He’s Coggswell’s right-hand man.” “Jake’s not a bad sort, if he’s handled right,” said Pop Andrews. “If I were you, Owen, I’d go and see him this evening. You’ll find him at the clubhouse. He hangs round there nearly every night.” “Go and see him? What for?” demanded Sheridan in astonishment.