, without knowing it, Officer 4434 echoed the sentiments of a great
many of his fellow citizens who are not catering to the votes of
foreign-born constituents or making fortunes from the prostitution of
workers' brain and brawn.

The big steamship companies, the cheap factory proprietors and the
great merchants who sell the sweat-shop goods at high-art prices, the
manipulators of subway and road graft, the political jobbers, the
anarchistic and socialistic sycophants of class guerilla warfare are
continually arguing to the contrary. But the policemen and the firemen
of New York City can tell a different story of the value of our alien
population of more than two million!

CHAPTER VIII

THE PURITY LEAGUE AND ITS ANGEL

In a few days, when an afternoon's relief allowed him the time, Officer
4434 decided to visit the renowned William Trubus. He found the
address of that patron of organized philanthropy in the telephone book
at the station house.

It was on Fifth Avenue, not far from the windswept coast of the famous
Flatiron Building.

Burke started up to the building shortly before one o'clock, and he
found it difficult to make his way along the sidewalks of the beautiful
avenue because of the hordes of men and girls who loitered about,
enjoying the last minutes of their luncheon hour.

Where a few years before had been handsome and prosperous shops, with a
throng of fashionably dressed pedestrians of the city's better classes
on the sidewalks, the district had been taken over by shirtwaist and
cloak factories. The ill-fed, foul-smelling foreigners jabbered in
their native dialects, ogled the gum-chewing girls and grudgingly gave
passage-way to the young officer, who, as usual, when off duty, wore
his civilian clothes.

"I wonder why these factories don't use the side streets instead of
spoiling the finest avenue in America?" thought Bob. "I guess it is
because the foreigners of their class spoil everything they seem to
touch. Our great granddaddies fought for Liberty, and now we have to
give it up and pay for the privilege!"

It was with a pessimistic thought like this that he entered the big
office structure in which was located the headquarters of the Purity
League. Bob took the elevator in any but a happy frame of mind. He
was determined to find out for himself just how correct was Dr.
MacFarland's estimate of high-finance-philanthropy.

On the fourth floor he left the car, and entered the do