His endeavors to study the probable brains of early mankind by examining the available skulls and brain-casts made from them, bears out this belief. For the improvement and perfection of man's tools has been consistently accompanied by the growth of the brain area which has enabled him so largely to control his life. "From first to last," he finds, "it has been the achievements of his hands which have carried man onward from the time when he began to work with the simplest stone implements. If one among the factors inseparably associated with human evolution were to be selected as the most potent developmental incentive, first choice would seem to fall most naturally to that specialized structure of the body best adapted to externalize the nerve energies of the brain. Such a flexible instrument as the human hand seems preeminently fitted for these purposes. With the brain to direct its action, to expand its usefulness, the upright posture to give freer range to its execution, with speech to make its accomplishments communal, to introduce the benefits of coöperation, the hand became the master-key that opened all of the ways leading through the new and vast domain of human behavior."

And as for the brain that has comprehended increasingly as the

hand has grasped more and more, Tilney has this to say: "For the most part the human cerebrum is regarded as a finished product. Its evolutionary history does not support this point of view, but makes it appear far more probable that the brain of modern man represents some intermediate stage in the ultimate development of the master organ of life. And the greatest possibility for future progress lies in the further development of the frontal lobe. In this sense the brain of prehistoric man is of more than antiquarian interest. It has a positive bearing on the future advances of mankind."

Having left the record of this investigation as complete as the existing material will permit, he turns now to complete his work in tracing, by means of the brain, the evolutionary process from fish to man, together with its underlying motives. Faced with another enormous task and the staggering mass of evidence to be gone through for significant material, he finds the inspiration of the vista its own reward.

Humble before all truth, extraordinarily shy of indoctrinating, this great explorer forges intrepidly into the jungles, the swamps and the sea. of man's past. The incentive for his Herculean labor is only, "What shall I believe?"

K

ATIE O'LEARY was chambermaid at the New Mammoth Hotel, and she had saved thirteen hundred dollars. And in eleven years, too.

It showed what a person could do. Why, that was more than a hundred dollars a year! If you save a dime here and a nickel there, it doesn't take long to save a dollar, and then pretty soon you have two dollars, and then before you know it you have a hundred dollars! Then a thousand. Then thirteen hundred. And in only eleven years.

Katie had been in the New Mammoth longer than any of the staff. She had been there two years before Mrs. Horn, the housekeeper, had poked her nose inside the place. Kind of a fixture, Katie was. The others laughed at her. Now and then the other help would say:

"Why, that was 'way back 'bout the time of Noah's Ark, it mighta even been before Katie came here to work."

Many girls had come and gone in that time, because eleven years is a long while in the help department of a hotel. The girls didn't last long, usually two or three years; sometimes four. Then they would get married.

It's because chambermaids at a

hotel see so many men, people say. Every day half a dozen new men; some not so bad, others like you think. But, anyway, men.

Katie wasn't so young as she used to be. It's the way a person gets who works ten hours a day in a hotel. Not much variety about it; make the beds, clean up rooms, run the vacuum-sweeper, go down to the helps' dining-room, eat, come back and start all over again.

Next year Katie would hit forty. But Katie had had an admirer. Gus Persipolous. Gus was a Greek and had run the freight elevator for a couple of years-chauffeuring it, he called it. He had been sweet on Katie, but

He had dark half circles under his nails, and an accent, and a good deal of meat on the back of his neck. And a good deal of hair on his arms. In the summer time, when it was hot, Gus would chauffeur up and down in his undershirt. Not a pleasant sight.

But still he seemed to like Katie. Especially when he found that she had almost thirteen hundred dollars.

"Why don't you invest it?" he asked. "I could make it pile up for you."

But Katie had heard of such

things as investments. Somebody would invest the money for you and that would be the last of it. No indeedy.

Gus had given up his perpendicular chauffeuring, and gone out as an oil salesman-peddling oil, he called it. He went from filling-station to filling-station telling about the best oil in the world. He had changed oils two or three times.

Now if he just had a little capital he would start up an agency of his own. Then he would be somebody. Think of that!-sitting at an office desk and raising hell with the clerks. It had made his mouth water.

23

Katie snapped the pass-key on her belt, and went down the freight elevator to the helps' dining-room. How well she knew that room, the rattle, the clatter, the slightly soiled table-cloth, the bus boys and substitute waiters dumping dishes on the table.

Mrs. Horn, the housekeeper, sat at the head of the table, with her big horn-rimmed glasses and the slightly sour look which Mrs. Horn had been born with.

"I've got a letter to read to you," announced Mrs. Horn, who could hire and fire and make and break at will. "It's from Edna, on her honeymoon."

Up until ten days ago Edna had been a chambermaid, too-floormaid, they were now sometimes fashionably called-but the work was the same, just as many beds to make. And now Edna was married and writing back on nice hotel stationery, telling how happy she was.

Katie sat entranced. Edna on her honeymoon telling how happy she

was! Mrs. Horn, with her specs pulled down on her nose, reading the letter-it was wonderful.

And Edna had been a chamfloor-maid less than two years. And now married! Probably a nice, fine home, too.

Selma, who was married last month, had worked there less than two years. Rhoda, who had married the traveling man from Terre Haute, hadn't been there even that long.

And so Katie had seen them come and go, almost a steady procession. And always they sent a letter from their honeymoon, and Mrs. Horn would read it aloud at the table. A few years later the girls would come back to the hotel for a day to visit, with big, strapping children at their sides.

At the bottom of the letter Edna had signed her new name, with Mrs. before it, in parentheses, like this(Mrs.). Katie gazed longingly and romantically at the short, wonderful, little word. Maybe sometime she herself could

As she came out Gus was talking to the checker-short, thick-shouldered Gus, who always looked as if he needed a shave, with his beefy neck and stubby fingers. With, here and there, little spots of oil on him.

"Say, Katie, you still off Tuesdays?" he asked.

"Shure, that's me day."

"Don't you want to go to a good movie show or something with me?"

Katie did. And when she came back the miracle had happened—she was engaged. Think of that!—engaged to be married. Now what would Mrs. Horn and the bunch say?-they who had always laughed

at her because she had never got herself a husband.

"We're going to me to fartic City for our honeymoon” Leve informed them when sut

That was stepping out in the world. None of the other gris Laż gone away in an automobile for a bonermoon. Trains mosty: some of them hadn't even left New York for their honeymoon. That would be terrible.

But Katie didn't tell them that they were going in Gus's "salesman's car," with samples in the back part, and the name of the of company painted in red letters across the doors. They stopped along the way; now and then she saw Gus with his stubby fagers bending over his book. Orders. Lots of orders.

Each time, he came back glowing. The oil business was booming-if he had his own agency he could make lots of money. By the time they had reached Atlantic City he had wangled the thirteen hundred out of her.

200

The honeymoon lasted ten days. But the honeymoon was full of vinegar. Gus grew more and more ruffianly and began to taunt her; she had wanted to get married to anybody, that was all-just to get married.

And then

On the tenth day it happened. Katie had been out on the Board Walk. It was nice to stroll up and down among the fashionable people, and look at them in the roller-chairs and wonder who they were and where they came from, and then just to turn around and look out across the ocean and not think about any thing at all.

The ker was in the box, wher she returned to the Fire backsetzet hotel where Gus had brought her, and getting in the elevator she went up to her floor, and sloped the ker into the door with practised band. The room was in disorder. At fi st she couldn't tell what it was Ok yes. Lis suitcase, which he had put on the little wooden bench, was gone.

That was caree That was carer. And then she looked in the closet. His suits were gone, too. Must have been stolen, she told herself.

But she knew they hadn't been. On the table was a letter; it would tell her where he was. May be he had been called away on business. She opened it. It was the hotel bill. On the back of it was a smear of writing in a thick, heavy, lead-pencil scrawl.

"Sorry but I know we can't ever live happy," it said.

The floor suddenly seemed to sink. Gus had gone, had taken her money and skinned out. It would be useless to try to pursue him. Besides, there was her pride. A very deep part of her, it was.

She opened the hotel bill. It was steep. The extras, for Gus was one of those human beings who can't be in a hotel room ten consecutive minutes without ordering something over the telephone.

Gus gone her money gone - the hotel bill must be paid. Must be paid before she could leave. She had seen people who had tried to leave without paying their bills. She went down and asked to speak to the manager privately. Some business had come up and her husband had suddenly been called away on a business trip, and could she work out her bill?