n, smoking and drinking stale beer, sat at the little tables
which were placed against the walls. The centre of the room was kept
clear for the dancers. He was amazed to find among them a lot of boys
and girls not out of their teens. Many of the dark-visaged brutes who
sat at the tables watching the dancers were beyond a doubt professional
thieves and crooks.

Here and there he saw one of them nod to a girl who was dancing with a
boy under age. He knew the meaning of that signal. She was his slave
and he lived on her wages. Was there no crime in all the catalogue of
human infamy to which man would not stoop for money!

The wheezy little orchestra of three pieces began a waltz, and the
dancers swung around the tobacco-fogged room. Stuart rose in disgust to
go, when he stopped near the door suddenly frozen to the spot. A fat
beastly Negro swept by encircling the frail figure of a while girl. Her
dress was ragged and filthy, but the delicate lines of her face, with
its pure Grecian profile, and high forehead bore the stamp of breeding
and distinction. Two red spots on her cheeks and the unnatural
brightness of her big blue eyes told only too plainly that Death had
marked her as his own.

To the young Southerner the sight was one of incredible horror. His
first impulse on recovery from this surprise was to rush in, knock this
Negro down and take the girl to a place of safety.

He looked about among all the men who filled the room, for a single
face in which was left a trace of human pride. With one to stand by
him, it could be done. He looked in vain. To strike alone in such a den
of beasts would be the act of a madman.

Quivering with rage he took a seat and watched the Negro send this girl
from side to side of the room to do his bidding. He made up his mind to
track the brute to his lair and tear her from his claws, no matter what
the cost. The Negro suddenly beckoned to the girl and she left with
him.

Stuart followed close on their heels. Two blocks from the place the
black figure stopped and demanded her money. She fumbled nervously in
the folds of her filthy skirt and drew from her pocket some small
coins. He turned it over in his greasy palm with a sneer.

"All right fur ez hit goes, but come over wid de res'."

"It's all I've got--I swear it is," she sobbed.

He glared at her with a savage growl.

"You're a liar!"

"It's true--I swear it's true!" the trembling voice pleaded.

"Didn't I tell ye las' ni