e name of Michael Phelan was mentioned.

He was a fresh, rosy-cheeked, greener-than-grass probationary cop when
fame came to him all in one clap and awoke a thunderous roll of
laughter throughout the city.

It was his first detail on the lower east side in the precinct
commanded from the Eldridge street station. The time was July and the
day was a broiler. He was sitting in the reserve room playing dominoes
with the doorman and mopping his forehead with a green bandana when
the captain sent for him.

"Phelan," said the captain shortly, "there's a lady dead without a
doctor at 311 Essex street, three flights up, rear. They've told the
Coroner's Office, but all the Coroners are busy. The corpse is a lone
widow lady with no kin, so you go up and take charge and wait for the
Coroner."

Officer 666 tipped his cap with military salute and set out. Turning
the corner into Essex street, he met plain-clothes man Tim Feeney, who
stopped him and asked him where he was bound. Michael Phelan explained
and then said:

"Tim, if you don't mind, will you give me a tip? What do I do when I
get up to that flat, and how long will I have to wait?"

"You'll have to wait, Mike," replied Tim Feeney, "till the Coroner
gets good and ready to come. When you get to the flat don't knock;
walk right in. Then sit down by the bed and wait. Be sure you keep the
door shut and let no soul in till the Coroner arrives."

"It'll be powerful hot and I'm perishing o' thirst now," said Mike.

"Take off your coat," said Tim, "and send a kid for a can of beer.
When you hear the Coroner comin' slip the can under the bed."

Tim Feeney went on his way with his hand over his mouth.

Patrolman Phelan had missed the twinkle in Tim Feeney's eye and a few
minutes later found him sitting beside a bed with his coat off and a
foaming can on the floor by his chair. On his way up the steep, narrow
staircases he had met a boy and sent him for the liquid refreshment.
He had instructed the lad where to deliver the beer and had gone
quietly in to his unpleasant vigil.

The door he opened led directly into the bedroom. He had glanced once
at the bed and then looked away with a shudder. Perspiration fairly
cascaded down his flaming cheeks as he tiptoed to a chair and placed
it beside the bed. He placed his chair at a slight angle away from the
bed and then fixed his eyes on the opposite wall. When he heard the
tread of the boy in the hall he made a pussy-footed dash f