I told him that I would think about it and give him an answer on the following day. That afternoon I consulted with several friends. The county judge declared that when Nolan put his shoulder to the wheel the wagon moved. The county attorney said that I could well afford to pay Nolan to take a half interest. That night I went to bed in a highly agreeable state of mind. The clouds were breaking away, and I could see the sun shining. The business cares of the office would be lifted off my mind, and I could devote myself to writing and to study. With nothing to do but to digest my subjects, I could write editorials that would establish me as a party leader. I dreamed of web perfecting presses, and of being consulted by great politicians. I hummed a tune before breakfast. The trade was soon consummated; and, delivering the books to Nolan, I seated myself in my inner sanctum, warmed by a stove pipe which came through from an adjoining shed occupied by a shoemaker, and gave myself up to deep thought. At last my time had come. At last the people must acknowledge my leader-writing ability. The next day Nolan brought in a few advertisements. Ah, the ripened fruit had already begun to fall. "By the way," said Nolan, as he seated himself on a corner of my table, "I have got a great scheme on hand." "Glad of it," I rapturously replied. "What is it?" "A number of our most prominent men have boned me to run for sheriff." "But will it not take up too much of your time?" "Why, no. You see, I can be elected as easily as falling off a log, and then, as sheriff, I can flood our paper with legal advertisements." "Nolan, you are a remarkable man." "You just wait." I wrote editorials in his behalf, and even left my sanctum and made speeches for him. He was elected. He turned over his newspaper books to his son, and took charge of the sheriff's office. The boy sat in the office, and, during the forenoon, whistled a circus tune. In the afternoon he got drunk. A few days after Nolan was installed, I went over to get an armful of legal advertisements. There were none on hand just at that time, Nolan told me. "In fact," said he "it has been decided not to print the delinquent-tax list this year." I was disappointed. The boy whistled his circus tune and then went out and got drunk. The next day, when I wanted to draw five dollars, the boy gave me thirty-five cents. Bills began to come in, and my deep thought was much disturbed by them. One morning Nolan came in, and, after whistling in imitation of his son, said: "It's pretty tough." "What is?" "Why, as sheriff, I've got to take charge of this office. Paper bill." I was staggered. "Can't we pay our bill?" I exclaimed. "Haven't any money at present, I am sorry to say. I regret now that I ran for sheriff, for it's devilish uncomfortable to close out a partner."