nd flat life are crowding out the American
family. Men and women live on the single, and prey on each other.
One half are sharks, and the other half are their victims!"

But there were two persons in New York City who now feared to
approach each other. Emil Einstein, after a whispered conference
with his pale-faced mother in her shabby den on the East Side,
hastily called a wagon and transported all his slender effects
to the little room in rear of Magdal's Pharmacy, where the bogus
doctor had had his Sunday conferences with his bibulous patrons--the
regular "sick people"--sick of a thirst, beginning officially with
Saturday midnight and ending, providentially, on Monday morning.

Bob Timmins and Emil Einstein were already secret allies and the
Don Juans of a coterie of haphazard Sixth Avenue beauties. There
was a usefulness to both in the new alliance, and Einstein was
already the destined secret patron of the degraded Timmins.

"It's a good shelter for me," mused the adroit Hebrew, "but I'll
never tell him a word of the old man."

The parting between Leah and her hopeful son had been a wild access
of maternal tenderness. "You see, I've got to," growled the boy.
"You don't want to go to the chair, or get into Sing Sing, if this
fellow Clayton turns up a stiff. I don't know what the 'old man'
was up to.

"You do! And I don't ever want to! The only way we can meet is once
a week in the crowd around the Germania Theater on Astor Place.

"I'll come there afternoon or evening each Saturday, and hang around
till I see you. You can take a seat in the theater. I'll go up in
the gallery, and nobody will drop on us. If any one asks for me,
say I've gone away by myself to room. That I'm going to be married."

"And at the business?" timidly sobbed Leah. "Oh! I've got to stay
on there," the boy stoutly answered. "I know nothing; just keep a
shut mouth. There'll be hell to pay now. Remember, don't you ever
dare to look me up. If you should be sick, send word to Ben Timmins
at the Magdal Pharmacy. He will give me the message, and then I'll
find a safe way to see you. It's a life and death matter, remember."

The boy was eager to get away, for he feared his mother's plaint
for money. He knew nothing of the three five-hundred-dollar bills
now sewed up in the buxom Leah's corset.

"If they've buncoed him or done him up, there'll be a great run!
Holy Moses! The papers!" Emil Einstein fled away from the wrath
to come, and, e