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Updated: October 28, 2025
The primaries, which were held yesterday, were the most disgraceful political exhibitions which have ever been offered in our civic history. Harpwood was counted out in every ward but one. Corkey, the sailors' candidate, carried two wards by the same tactics which the police made use of elsewhere. In the First and Second, the officers arrested all 'disturbers' on complaint of Corkeyites.
Glad to know you. I'm fixed myself." Corkey examines the list of failures. "I'm glad you're heeled," he says. A boy is fastening a new bulletin on the window. "There you be, now!" says Corkey. "The Coal and Oil Trust Company's Institution Goes Down," is on the bulletin. "I'll lend you money enough to git home," says Corkey. "Panic! Panic!
"Did you tell 'em I got you fine?" asks Corkey. "I told them I thought you had as good a case as I had." "Did you tell 'em I'd knock seventeen kinds of stuffin' out of their whole party? That I'd " Corkey is at his wits ends. His challenge has been accepted. At the outset he had saved fifty twenty-dollar gold pieces out of his wages. He has spent fifteen already.
This is worse than the Africa. I believe I ain't so solid with myself as I was before she founder. Open that valve!" Noah pulls the bell. There is no retreat now. Faces are peering from every window. Museum managers are on guard at the ends of the street. The story of Corkey and his mascot is on every tongue in Chicago. Esther Lockwin opens the door.
"I do not know," he says, resolutely. Corkey is convinced. "I'll bet it's true," he says, suddenly summing up the situation. He hurries away. The weather is wet and cold. Corkey is drenched, and of all things he dreads a drenching. For that he wears the thickest of clothes. Three hours later he is known to be badly beaten at the polls. He is denounced as a sore-head, a bolter, and a fool.
Chalmers, I should like to entertain you on your recovery. How singular! This is our old family drug store! Didn't Dr. Floddin keep here? Poor Dr. Floddin! Oh! David! David! Good-bye, Mr. Chalmers." "He's not badly hurt at all," says Corkey, "you mustn't worry over that." "I'm so glad, Mr. Corkey." It is the autumn of a great misery. The woman is righting herself.
"I'm dying, Corkey. God bless you. I wanted to thank you." "God bless you, Lockwin. We're all in the same boat. I'm glad we caught you!" The mascot moves toward the sinking man. The head falls again on the stern seat. The body is in ten inches of water. The boat is moving rapidly. "Want to send any word home, Lockwin?" There is a pause. There is an effort to speak of money.
Perhaps the steamer is not going to sink. "Whoopy!" Corkey is under the steamer's side, deep in the waves. He goes down suddenly, cold, frightened, benumbed. He feels that some one is trying to pull the rope out of his hands. It must be Lockwin. The drowning man clutches with a hundred forces. The tug increases. The struggling man will lose the rope. Lockwin is striking Corkey with a bludgeon.
He is reading a telegram that astonishes, electrifies and confuses him. After wading ten miles along shore found yawl Africa sunk in three feet water, filled with sand and hundreds stone. Can take you to spot. What reward? What shall we do?" Corkey seizes the dispatch, puts on his coat, and rides downstairs. On the street he finds it is midnight. He looks for a carriage.
"You bet I won't!" thinks Corkey, as he expresses his regrets that enforced absence from Chicago will prevent his candidacy. "You'd be elected!" chime the touching committees. "You bet I would," says Corkey. "Corkey is too smart," say the touching committees. "Wait till he gets into politics from the inside. Won't he wolf the candidates!" Corkey is at last on the shores of Georgian Bay.
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