hands buried deep in the pockets of their short
overcoats! But Billy--oh, what small avail are words to paint for
you his glory as seen by Ikey Snigglefritz!

The Cafe Maginnis rang to the note of victory. The white-coated
bartenders threw themselves featfully upon bottle, cork and glass.
From a score of clear Havanas the air received its paradox of
clouds. The leal and the hopeful shook Billy McMahan's hand. And
there was born suddenly in the worshipful soul of Ikey Snigglefritz
an audacious, thrilling impulse.

He stepped forward into the little cleared space in which majesty
moved, and held out his hand.

Billy McMahan grasped it unhesitatingly, shook it and smiled.

Made mad now by the gods who were about to destroy him, Ikey threw
away his scabbard and charged upon Olympus.

"Have a drink with me, Billy," he said familiarly, "you and your
friends?"

"Don't mind if I do, old man," said the great leader, "just to keep
the ball rolling."

The last spark of Ikey's reason fled.

"Wine," he called to the bartender, waving a trembling hand.

The corks of three bottles were drawn; the champagne bubbled in
the long row of glasses set upon the bar. Billy McMahan took his
and nodded, with his beaming smile, at Ikey. The lieutenants and
satellites took theirs and growled "Here's to you." Ikey took his
nectar in delirium. All drank.

Ikey threw his week's wages in a crumpled roll upon the bar.

"C'rect," said the bartender, smoothing the twelve one-dollar notes.
The crowd surged around Billy McMahan again. Some one was telling
how Brannigan fixed 'em over in the Eleventh. Ikey leaned against
the bar a while, and then went out.

He went down Hester street and up Chrystie, and down Delancey to
where he lived. And there his women folk, a bibulous mother and
three dingy sisters, pounced upon him for his wages. And at his
confession they shrieked and objurgated him in the pithy rhetoric
of the locality.

But even as they plucked at him and struck him Ikey remained in his
ecstatic trance of joy. His head was in the clouds; the star was
drawing his wagon. Compared with what he had achieved the loss of
wages and the bray of women's tongues were slight affairs.

He had shaken the hand of Billy McMahan.

* * * * * * *

Billy McMahan had a wife, and upon her visiting cards was engraved
the name "Mrs. William Darragh McMahan." And there was a certain
vexation attendant upon t