Chapter XXVII · A BOOMERANG.

At nine o’clock that evening Coggswell proceeded to hand his opponent the big jolt, as planned. Standing on the platform at Colfax Hall, which was filled with some two thousand voters of the district, he began earnestly:

“My friends, as you all know, since the start of this contest I have deplored personal attacks. I have raised my voice in protest against the outrageous mud slinging indulged in by my opponent and his misguided friends. But inasmuch as they have persisted in their shameful abuse of a man who for seventeen years has worked night and day to serve the people of this district, I feel justified in showing you that we can do a little mud slinging, too. I am going to handle this Mr. Justice Lawrence without gloves. I am going to show him to you in his true colors.”

Boss Coggswell raised his clenched fist above his head. “A rascal who deceives his fellow men is bad enough,” he yelled, “but I cannot find words, my friends, to express my contempt for a scoundrel who would dupe a woman—an innocent, trusting young girl. And that’s the kind of a man the Honorable Sugden Lawrence is.”

He was interrupted at this point by a storm of groans and hisses, and one man with a brazen voice shouted: “That’s a lie!”

“It’s the truth!” roared Boss Coggswell, shaking his fist frenziedly in the direction of this disturber. “It’s the truth, my friends, and I can prove it. This rascal Lawrence has just paid the sum of thirty thousand dollars to a young woman whom he promised to marry and then shamelessly jilted. He paid her the money, not out of a sense of shame, my friends, or a sense of justice, but because she had started a suit for breach of promise against him, and he was afraid of the scandal. He was afraid of being shown up to his fellow men in his true colors, so he paid her thirty thousand dollars hush money to call off the suit. The name of this young woman is Miss Marjorie Dorman. I challenge the Honorable Sugden Lawrence to deny these facts.” The speaker placed withering emphasis upon the word honorable. “I challenge him to deny that he paid that money to prevent the breach-of-promise suit from going to court.”

Amid the excitement which followed this sensational charge, a young man strode down the center aisle toward the platform. Boss Coggswell saw him coming, and stared at him in astonishment. He scarcely could believe that his eyes were not playing him a trick.

The young man, a grim smile on his face, mounted the three stairs leading to the platform, and stood in the background, waiting patiently until Boss Coggswell was through with his speech. He did not have long to wait. Although the speaker had intended to say much more, his thoughts were so upset by the arrival of this visitor that he cut short his remarks.

As he stepped to the rear of the platform, he was confronted by the newcomer.

“Well, if it isn’t my young friend, Inspector Sheridan!” he exclaimed, with affected heartiness. “What are you doing here, my boy? I thought you were in San Francisco. I heard that you had been transferred there.”

“Evidently your informant hasn’t kept you well posted,” Owen replied dryly. “I was ordered there, but I was called back. You see, Mr. Coggswell, you are not the only man who has a pull at Washington. My friend Judge Lawrence has a friend there who is quite influential in post-office affairs. He lives at the White House. When he heard that the judge needed me here, he was kind enough to countermand that transfer order.”

“So the judge needed you here, did he?” remarked the boss uneasily. “Might I ask what for?”

“Certainly. I have no objection to telling you that—now. Judge Lawrence had a suspicion that his mail was being tampered with. He thought that I might be able to find out who was responsible for the outrage.”

“And have you found out?” inquired Coggswell, his ears beginning to wiggle.

“I have,” Inspector Sheridan answered. “That is why I am here now. I have come to place you under arrest, Mr. Coggswell. I wish I could say that it is an unpleasant duty, but I must be truthful. As a good citizen, I have been looking forward to this moment for some time.”

Their voices were sufficiently loud to carry to all parts of the hall, and a hush had fallen upon the audience. Every man was listening intently.

Boss Coggswell frowned. “Young man, you had better be careful. I warn you that if you go ahead with this foolishness the consequences will be most disastrous to you. I presume this is a piece of spite work on the part of my opponent. No doubt he has heard that I’ve got the goods on him regarding that breach-of-promise case, and he thinks he’ll be able to square himself with the voters of this district by making this outrageous move.”

“Are you quite sure that you have the goods on Judge Lawrence regarding that breach-of-promise case?” asked Sheridan, with a quizzical smile. “Perhaps you are mistaken, Coggswell. Perhaps the judge is not quite the rascal you have painted him. It is true that he is acquainted with a young person named Marjorie Dorman. It is also true that he is very fond of her. But it is not true that he has ever asked her to marry him. As a matter of fact, she is not quite old enough to consider a proposal of that sort. She is only six years old. She is the judge’s little niece.”

Boss Coggswell looked very uneasy. His face had turned pale. His ears were wiggling furiously.

“Then what was the idea?” he inquired hoarsely.

“The idea was to set a little trap for you,” Owen explained. “As I said before, the judge has had cause to suspect for some time that his mail was being tampered with—that somebody was steaming open the envelopes and reading their contents before they were delivered to him. He put the matter in my hands, and we decided to make a little test to ascertain whether his suspicions were correct. We fixed up a decoy letter. It told of an imaginary check for thirty thousand dollars which the judge paid to settle an imaginary breach-of-promise suit. It was sent to the judge through the mails, and was intercepted in the usual way by you, Coggswell——”

“That’s a lie!” Coggswell interrupted furiously. “I never saw your confounded letter. I——”

“It is the truth,” Inspector Sheridan returned quietly. “The speech you have just made on this platform is enough to convict you. But, in addition to that, I have arrested the carrier who handed the letter to your man, Bill Hillman, and I have a complete confession from him. We have such a good case, Boss Coggswell, that we are fully confident of the result. Not only are you going to lose the leadership of this district, but you are going away for a few years to keep your friend and accomplice, Jake Hines, company in prison.”

And, although he was not the seventh son of a seventh son, Post-office Inspector Owen Sheridan proved to be a true prophet.

THE END.

“SOLD.”

As the man went across the street, several persons saw it, and turned to laugh at him. The second boy, who was waiting across the street, ran up to the man and said:

“Mister, there’s a card hooked to your coat behind. Let me take it off.”

“Goodness me!” said the man. “How did that get there?”

“One o’ them ragamuffins put it on, I s’pose.”

“Confound them! Well, here’s a dime for you.”

Two minutes later the good little boy hung it on a fat man, and his partner on the other side collected another dime. He had to ask for it, but he got it. A man would be a brute to refuse a dime to a poor boy who had done him such a service.

A SMART TOAD.

Professor Botkins tells of a remarkable instance of intelligence exhibited by a garden toad. He was watching the efforts of his pet toad to capture a very large worm. The toad had been sitting still, and giving no sign that it saw anything. The worm gave a little wriggle as it began to come out of the ground, when, quick as a flash the toad made a leap, and seized the end of the worm in its mouth.

Then began a tug of war. Every time that the toad gave a pull, the worm drew back. But the toad was not to be discouraged. It jerked and jerked until it fairly stood on its hind legs. Still it could not dislodge the worm.

He glanced down again, and saw the toad twisting its legs about until the worm was wrapped twice around it, then the toad gave a hop, and out came the worm.

IT WAS FOUND.

An Irish clergyman, riding from his home to chapel one morning had the misfortune to lose a new cloak, which he carried attached to his saddle.

Before commencing his discourse, he thought well to advertise the loss of the garment and to enlist the services of the congregation in its recovery.

“Dearly beloved,” he began, “I have met with a great loss this morning. I have lost my fine new cloak. If any of you find it, I hope you will be so good as to bring it home to me.”

“It’s found, yer riverence,” cried a voice from the bottom of the chapel.

“God bless you, my child!” exclaimed the pastor, with unction.

“It’s found, sir,” continued the voice; “for I kem that road this mornin’, an’ it wasn’t on it.”

TOO SHARP BY A THIRD.

Harry had just begun to go to school, and was very proud of what he had learned.

One day he thought he would show his father how much he knew, and asked him at dinner:

“Papa, how many chickens are there on that dish?”

“Two, my boy,” said papa. “I thought you knew how to count.”

“You’re wrong,” said Harry; “there are three. That’s one, that’s two, and two and one make three.”

“Very well,” said his father; “your mother may have one for her dinner, I’ll take the other, and you can have the third.”