ating always makes the starving hopeful.

A merciful darkness covered the hideousness of ten thousand faces. The
reporters began to fidget like nervous women at a military play just
before the execution.

H. R., seizing the exact psychological moment, said to the reporters:

"Let us press the button!"

It is the modern way--the press and the pressure.

He pressed the button. It turned on the lights of an electric sign hung
above the entrance. The starving men read in blazing letters:

IF YOU ARE HUNGRY AND

HAVE NO MONEY WALK IN!

By their light the reporters were able to see the faces of the crowd
plainly.

"My God!" said the young man from the _Times_.

The dazzling invitation was so worded as to prevent unseemly haste and
unnecessary crowding. It said, "_Walk_ in."

"It is easy to assume, gentlemen," said H. R., calmly, to the reporters,
"that all these people are hungry."

"Yes, let 'em all in!" entreated those reporters who were not jotting
down impressions.

H. R. shook his head sternly.

"We have our duty to the public to perform. We must determine whether
they have no money."

"Your duty is to feed them _all_," said the _Sun_ man.

"You can't afford to make a single mistake. Did you see that
white-haired woman--"

"Come with me, gentlemen," cut in H. R., leading the way within.

Streams of people began to flow in at each entrance, sedately; four big
policemen, representing the majesty of the law, stood, two on either
side of each entrance. The majesty was of locust wood, held in the air,
ready to descend on the cranium of the lawless and even of the
ill-mannered.

As the starving entered the door they found themselves in a passageway
with sides of heavy plank that narrowed until they were walking in
single file, just as they do in abattoirs and sheep-dipping pens.

One by one they thus came. There was a small inclosure on one side of
the passage. There stood H. R. and his reporters. Beside them was a
small table. A heap of shining silver quarters was on the table in plain
sight of all.

H. R. asked the first man, "Are you hungry?"

"Yes. I haven't had a bite in--"

H. R. held up a hand to check the autobiography. He inquired, sternly:

"Got any money?"

"Nope."

"Sure?"

"Yep."

The reporters began to sneer. What did this H. R., who was said to be
clever, expect such people to answer? That's the trouble with all
wealthy philanthropists. They are damned fools. They don't