“Well, if I come to such a place as this I must expect a jackleg railroad.  They say they’ve got an old tub there at the dock.  Good stiff fall breeze, too.”

The thought of danger resuscitates Corkey.  He finds some sailors, tells them how he was elected to Congress, slaps them on the back, tries to split the bar with his fist, a feat which has often won votes, and tightens his heart with raw Canadian whisky.

“Going to be rough, Corkey.”

“’Spose so,” nods Corkey.  “Is she pretty good?”

“The Africa?”

“Um-huh!”

“Oh, well, she’s toted me often enough.  She’s like the little nig they carry.”

“Does that mascot sail with her?”

“To be sure.”

“That settles it.  Landlord, give us that sour mash.”

“Train’s coming!”

The drinks are hurriedly swallowed and paid for, and the men are off for the depot near by.

“How are ye, Lockwin?” “How-dy-do, Corkey.  Where have you got me?  Going to murder me and get to Congress in my place?”

“No, but I expect you’re going to resign and let me in.”

“Where’s your boat?  I hear they’re waiting.  I suppose we can get supper on board.  Why did you choose such a place as this?”

“Well, cap, I had a long slate to fix up when I came here.  If I was to be collector, of course I want to make my pile out of it, and I must take care of the boys.  But I didn’t start out to be collector, and I’ve about failed to make any slate at all.  Yet, if I’m to sell out to you folks, I reckon I couldn’t do it on any boat in the open lakes.  I’m not sure but Georgian Bay is purty prominent.  Captain Grant, this is Mr. Lockwin, of Chicago.  This is the captain of the Africa.  Mr. Bodine, Mr. Lockwin, of Chicago.  Mr. Bodine is station-keeper here.  Mr. Troy, Mr. Lockwin.  Mr. Troy keeps the hotel.  Mr. Flood, Mr. Lockwin.  Mr. Flood runs the bank and keeps the postoffice and general store.”

The group nears the hotel.

Corkey is seized with a paroxysm of tobacco strangling, ending with a sneeze that is a public event.  He is again black in the face, but he has been polite.

The uninitiated express their astonishment at a sneeze so mighty, and enter the inn.  The women of the dining-room come peeping into the bar-room, But the captain explains: 

“That sneeze carried Corkey to Congress.  I’ve heern tell how he’d be in the middle of a speech and some smart Aleck would do something to raise the laugh on the gentleman.  Corkey would get to strangling and then would end with a sneeze that would carry the house.  It’s great!”

“That’s what it is!” says Mr. Bodine.

“Gentlemen, my father had it.  It’s no laughing matter.  God sakes, how that does shake a man!”

But Corkey has not only done the polite act.  He has relieved his mind.  He is no longer in danger of being worked off.