A SINKING FEELING

The next portrait in our ghoulish gallery is indeed a most unusual one. Depicted in an air of prominence is Mr. Norman Dowsand, a wealthy politician. Here, he is dressed up in his finest suit with a derby hat and a look of smug self-satisfaction upon his round face. Yet, what is most odd about this painting is that Mr. Dowsand is seated atop the shoulders of his lawyer, a Mr. Clarence Midalf; an older-looking fellow with a mustache and a worried look upon his face. And the curious nature of the portrait continues, as Midalf is sitting on top of the shoulders of Mr. Emmet Bog, Mr. Dowsand's accountant, who sports an exprssion of sheer terror. I'm sure you're probably wondering why this trio of gentlemen are sitting on each other's shoulders, and the events that led up to it. It's the tale of Norman Dowsand, Clarence Midalf, and Emmet Bog: The Politician, The Lawyer and The Accountant.

William Dowsand; Clarence Midalf: Emmet Bog:

The Politician, The Lawyer, And The Accountant

(1876-1921); (1874-1921); (1878-1921)

Since anyone could remember, Mr. Norman Dowsand, Clarence Midalf, and Emmet Bog were the most crooked men anyone had ever met. The three gentlemen met each other while attending Harvard University, where they became fast friends. After college, Dowsand became a local politician, and was eventually elected as the mayor of the small town of Grand Shores, Connecticut. Soon after being elected, he hired his two closest friends: Midalf and Bog as his lawyer and accountant. This devious trio soon formed their own group of corruption.

Dowsand was a smug man, always having confidence in everything he did - even when he knew he was doing something deceitful and heinous. He never really cared about the people of Grand Shores, and never did anything prosperous in office. The only thing he cared about was the taxpayers' money, which he secretly hoarded for himself. Sometimes, he even created fake taxes and swindled the poor townsfolk. To throw off any suspicion of his friend, Bog would write off the money and juggle the figures carefully, so there would be no record of the taxes.

As an attorney, Midalf also similarly aided his friend Dowsand. If Dowsand was put on trial, Midalf would often secretly bribe members of the jury to vote innocent.

But eventually, their unknown corruption was soon detected. After irate citizens complained to officials in Washington, D.C. (Dowsand had convinced the townspeople that the U.S. government was responsible for his own tax hikes), the government began to investigate Dowsand and his decisions while in office as mayor. In fear of being captured by the government, Mayor Dowsand gathered as much money as he could from the town's treasury, and fled the country to Brazil with his friends Midalf and Bog.

However, unbeknownst to their best friend, Midalf and Bog were secretly hatching a plan of their own. While in Brazil, they planned to dispose of Mr. Dowsand, and divide the dead man's vast fortune between each other.

A few days after arriving in Brazil, the two men put their plan into action, while taking a trek through the jungle along the banks of the Amazon River. While stopping for a rest from walking, Midalf and Bog saw this as the opportune moment to shove Dowsand into the alligator-infested river while the man had his back turned. However, while sneaking up behind Dowsand, Bog found it very difficult to move. In horror, he discovered that he was up to his shins in sand; the trio had actually stopped to rest atop a large patch of quicksand.

Bog struggled to break free, but only wound up sinking faster into the deep pit of sand. He shouted to Midalf and Dowsand, and the two men tried to pull Bog out of the sand to no avail. Soon, the two men began to notice that the sand was starting to slowly cover their own feet. Frantically, they tried to escape the pit, but with each step they took they only sank further into the sand. Glancing around anxiously for a way out, Dowsand noticed a large sturdy tree branch hanging high over the men's heads. He instructed that if they sat on each other's shoulders, they might be able to grab the branch and pull themselves free.

Midalf managed to pull his feet out of the muck and sand, and sat atop Bog's shoulders, while Dowsand proceeded to climb and sit atop Midalf's shoulders. Dowsand struggled to grasp the high branch, but he was only able to barely brush it with his fingertips. Eventually, the combined weight of all three men only made them sink faster to their doom: Bog quickly disappeared down into the pit, followed by Midalf, and finally Dowsand submerging into the sandy grave. The only thing that was ever left of the three gentlemen was Dowsand's brown derby hat, which lightly rested on the surface of the quicksand pit.

A chilling tale of deceit and greed, wasn't it? The three most corrupt and devious men known, who were sent to their just reward. I wonder if they ever regretted their decision to venture into the jungle that day. However, one thing is for certain: they most certainly felt a deep "sinking feeling."

Next chapter: the story of the young Master Gracey and his ill-fated wedding.