The daily Alaskan., 1916-09-20
OeeOsOoOOSOsOeSO0SOOSt His Price It Turned Out to Be
 His Own, Not the r Other Mans.
By CLARlSSA MACKIE
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 That was his chief boast. One day after be had made thls assertion one of the persons who heard 1t said to the other:
 Reckon he did make himself. The Lord never would have made a man like him"
 Skin left school when he was nine years old.
 There were two things that Babcock coveted. The one was the most ex- pensive automobile he could buy, and the fashiest. The other was Celia Hart, young milliner. Celia was of the same sphere in life as Babcock, but she must have been made of different clay.
 He got the automobile, and 1t re mained for him to get Celia Hart--it be could. The only thing in the way of his getting her so far as he knew was Tim Casey Casey was in Bab- cocks employ, and BabcOck considered that be owned every man be hired. It Ealled him to feel that thls common workman" as he called Casey, should be in the way of his getting anything be wanted. But Casey was far before him in Cella's affections, and he knew it. But 1t wasn't natural that this should be so, and he thought up a way to change fla way that only such man as he would choose.
 For three succeeding days SkifP Bab cock had permitted his brand new red touring car to crawl along the street in the hope of meeting Celia as she went to or from the milliner's where she worked.
 skiT could always pick Celia out of q crowd by the graceful swing of her slender. erect figure, but recently she had identified herself beyond all doubt by perching q coral colored hat on her abundant black hair.
 All at once SkinTs beady little eyes dIscerned her. First the coral hat came into view, then Celia's lovely laughing face and finally the hulking form of none other than Mir, Babcock's head truck driver, who held Celia's el- bow in one big hand with most offen- sive air of proprIetorshlp.
 Suddenly Skifr Babcock whirled his machine around and dashed into an- other street
 An hour later he sat at his desk in the office of the Skiff Babcock Truck ing company. At the Curbstone his red car panted impatiently. Through the archway that connected the street with the stables behind bis office his employees were passing to and fro. A haze of tobacco smoke blurred the little room, for Skin was smoking ci- gar after cigar in a dogged. persistent way, very much as if he knew that when he reached the end of a certain number of these fragrant smokes he would find a solution to the problem that troubled him.
 All at once he flung half finished cigar through the window and pounded the desk heavily with one pudgy fist.
 "Fvery man has his price" he said slowly. "I wonder what is Casey's priceT'
 Again he meditated.
 "A truckman," he snorted scornful- ly, against me, who can turn every vote in this ward--me, with that auty,, mobile. and could dress her in dia- monds, with a fat in Central Park West, if she wanted 1t. The nerve of Tim Caseyr'
 He rang a bell sharply
 Has Casey come bGckT" be asked of the boy who responded.
 No, sir"
 Send him here when he comes, scowled Skiff. and he lighted another cigar.
 By the time Tim Casey's huge bulk darkened the office doorway Skiff Bab- cock hnd smoked himself Into fit of cold anger, tempered only by his favor ite maxim that Every man has his price"
 That this was true to a degree in skif Babcock's political circle account ed for his self-confience to settle the case of Tim Casey off hand.
 You wanted me| grinned Tim Casey good naturedly.
 Skin drowned up at the big, hand some young Irishman, whose every muscle was tense with strength and vitality. Tlm's blue eyes sparkled and bis white teeth shOne. Life was good sport to the hard working truck driver
 "I saw you on Sixth avenue this noon," blurted forth Skifr. This was not the way he had intended to open the subject.
 "I guess I wasn't breaking no speed limits" grinned Tim. ''That gray horse ain't got the grit to cart heavy dry goods. He ought to be put on the ostrich feather route"
 "You wasn't carting that kind of dry goods up the avenue. What do you mean by loafing around when you ought to be on your job, eh?' Casey's back stif'ened and his blue eyes narrowed.
 } "It was noon hour" he said sharply. "Where was the truck?"
 Here in the stable"