Confidence Man (Editor's note: One of the most amusing student narrations appears in this story by Floyd Sealer. The work shows real ability and talent. We urge Mr. Seager to continue writing stories.) "There's the sucker that I've been waiting for," thought Nick as he eyed a rubish looking man stepping from the steps of a hissing pulman car. "You can, tell them a mile away; wide brimmed hat, high shoes, and a certain air of astonishment when they see the famed New York sky-line for the first time. He's the kind that's likely to have a couple o' grand stowed in his sock. Why I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that I can unload a mess o' this phoney oil-well stock on him. Rubes like him are a sinch for a piece of paper with a gold border on it and a few whereases and towits stuck into it. Why there's not enough oil left in that well to lubricate a rollar skate," he laughed as he started to e5.se his way th rough th e crowd. "I don't know another place on the face of the earth," he pondered, "that a man could find such a myraid of personalities, problems, and unusual situations as he can find right here in Grand Central Station. The same train that brought this hay-seedy fly into my oil stock wed may be carrying criminal to a term in the "local bastile". New York was indeed a funny place. Here were six million people jammed into a few souare miles of land and a person could walk all day and never see a familiar face. There's a girl over there that came to New York from some out-of-the-way "Jerkwater" in search of a career, I'd bet my bottom dollar. And over there-- hey, wait aminute, my farmer's gone. Why, if I should lose him, I'd have to do without butter on mv bread; right now I'm as flat as a piece of paper, and the seat of my pants is about as thin." "Whew'. There he is now, what a relief." But the least of his troubles was not just keep track of him; he could follow him around untill he wore his legs down to the knees and still not sell any of his oil stock which was so necessary to pacify lick's ravenous appetite. And so, with this thought in mind, Nick decided that this was as good a time as any to make his approach. Taking his place beside the farmer, Nick began, "Hello, stranger, is this your first trip to New York?" "Yep." "It's a wonderful day, isn't it? It's the first good weather we've had since last fall." "Yep." "I can see that this isn't; going to work out as well as I anticipated," Nick said to himself. "I should have picked a little better conversationalist for a victim." However, in his day, Nick had run up tougher nuts than this to crack; and so, nothing daunted, he took another swing at it. "Where you from?" "Maine." "Portland?" "Nope." "This fellow talks a regular blue streak," thought Nick "I'll bet his vocal cords haven't suffered, much wear and tear." "I've got an uncle that lives in Maine," ventured Nick. "He's a farmer." "Zat so?" "Yeah, he raises cotton or sompthing, whatever thev raize in Maine." It was no use, he'd drawn another blank. The quickest way to a man's in through his stomach, maybe that went for his pocket book too. It was no use, he'd drawn another blank. The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach, maybe tat went for his pocket book too.