ut that's just the
Island of Manhattan. All around there's a lot more. Manhattan is
mostly where they work. They live other places."

It was not very long before the train slowed down to make Grand
Central Station. On the long platform Ronicky surrendered his suit
case to the first porter. Bill Gregg was much alarmed. "What'd you do
that for?" he asked, securing a stronger hold on his own valise and
brushing aside two or three red caps.

"He asked me for it," explained Ronicky. "I wasn't none too set on
giving it to him to carry, but I hated to hurt his feelings. Besides,
they're all done up in uniforms. Maybe this is their job."

"But suppose that feller got away out of sight, what would you do?
Your brand-new pair of Colts is lying away in it!"

"He won't get out of sight none," Ronicky assured his friend grimly.
"I got another Colt with me, and, no matter how fast he runs, a
forty-five slug can run a pile faster. But come on, Bill. The word in
this town seems to be to keep right on moving."

They passed under an immense, brightly lighted vault and then wriggled
through the crowds in pursuit of the astonishingly agile porter. So
they came out of the big station to Forty-second Street, where they
found themselves confronted by a taxi driver and the question:
"Where?"

"I dunno," said Ronicky to Bill. "Your reading tell you anything about
the hotels in this here town?"

"Not a thing," said Bill, "because I never figured that I'd be fool
enough to come this far away from my home diggings. But here I am, and
we don't know nothing."

"Listen, partner," said Ronicky to the driver. "Where's a
fair-to-medium place to stop at?"

The taxi driver swallowed a smile that left a twinkle about his eyes
which nothing could remove. "What kind of a place? Anywhere from fifty
cents to fifty bucks a night."

"Fifty dollars!" exclaimed Bill Gregg. "Can you lay over that,
Ronicky? Our wad won't last a week."

"Say, pal," said the taxi driver, becoming suddenly friendly, "I can
fix you up. I know a neat little joint where you'll be as snug as you
want. They'll stick you about one-fifty per, but you can't beat that
price in this town and keep clean."

"Take us there," said Bill Gregg, and they climbed into the machine.

The taxi turned around, shot down Park Avenue, darted aside into the
darker streets to the east of the district and came suddenly to a
halt.

"Did you foller that trail?" asked Bill Gregg in a chuckling whi