own
stairs.

"Doctored a little too high," whispered Miss Peter, with her mouth close
to Pinky's ear.

"All right," Pinky whispered back; "they know how to do it."

At the foot of the stairs Pinky said,

"You take her out through the yard, while I pay for the oysters. I'll be
with you in a moment."

Poor Flora, was already too much confused by the drugged liquor she had
taken to know what they were doing with her.

Hastily paying for the oysters and liquor, Pinky was on hand in a few
moments. From the back door of the house they entered a small yard, and
passed from this through a gate into a narrow private alley shut in on
each side by a high fence. This alley ran for a considerable distance,
and had many gates opening into it from yards, hovels and rear
buildings, all of the most forlorn and wretched character. It terminated
in a small street.

Along this alley Pinky and the girl she had met at the restaurant
supported Flora, who was fast losing strength and consciousness. When
halfway down, they held a brief consultation.

"It won't do," said Pinky, "to take her through to----street. She's too
far gone, and the police will be down on us and carry her off."

"Norah's got some place in there," said the other, pointing to an old
wooden building close by.

"I'm out with Norah," replied Pinky, "and don't mean to have anything
more to do with her."

"Where's your room?"

"That isn't the go. Don't want her there. Pat Maley's cellar is just
over yonder. We can get in from the alley."

"Pat's too greedy a devil. There wouldn't be anything left of her when
he got through. No, no, Pinky; I'll have nothing to do with it if she's
to go into Pat Maley's cellar."

"Not much to choose between 'em," answered Pinky. "But it won't do to
parley here. We must get her in somewhere."

And she pushed open a gate as she spoke. It swung back on one hinge
and struck the fence with a bang, disclosing a yard that beggared
description in its disorder and filth. In the back part of this yard
was a one-and-a-half-story frame building, without windows, looking more
like an old chicken-house or pig-stye than a place for human beings
to live in. The loft over the first story was reached by ladder on the
outside. Above and below the hovel was laid off in kind of stalls or
bunks furnished with straw. There were about twenty of these. It was
a ten-cent lodging-house, filled nightly. If this wretched hut or
stye--call it what you will