ave
assumed foolish responsibilities. He was entirely wrong. What business
had he to seek affection, to require the faithfulness of a rust-colored
mongrel? How dared he ask charity that should have gone to the widow and
orphan, wherewith to feed a useless quadruped? I sat down again, for it
was only midnight, and thought pleasantly upon the vagaries of human
nature. Suddenly, a splendid story suggested itself to me about a dog
and tramp. It would be good for about four thousand words, and I hurried
away to Mrs. Milliken's lest the inspiration might vanish on the way. I
would have a dog all but human, a tramp all but dog, and the animal
would sacrifice itself for a master redeemed at last by the spectacle of
canine virtue. I knew just what magazine might accept it. A few minutes
later I reached the house, which, like the Milliken woman, has seen
better days. The frittering brownstone and discolored brick suit me as
naturally as a hole in the sand befits a prairie dog. I let myself in,
softly, with due regard to the slumbers of people compelled by the
tragedy of life to go to bed at the behest of a clock, and trod the
creaking stairs in utter darkness, guided by a friendly but shaky
balustrade. Then I reached my landing, opened my door, turned on the
light, put on my slippers and fired my coat on the bed. As soon as I had
dropped my collar and tie on the floor, I was ready for work and sat
down to my machine. Thank goodness, the inspiration had remained;
clearly and cogently the sentences flowed; after I had finished the
first page, I was already weeping in spirit for my noble dog. Then,
suddenly, came a rap at my door, hurried, eager, impatient.

"Great Heavens!" I thought at once. "I am to be interrupted because that
blessed woman objects to loud typewriting at one a.m. I'm glad she's
going away to the hospital."

I went to the door, assuming my most austere mien, and opened it.

CHAPTER II

FRIEDA THE ANGEL

"Please help me!" cried the woman hoarsely. "My God! What shall I do?"

It was, as I had surmised, the Murillo-faced occupant of the room on the
other side of the landing. In my dismay the desperate thought came to me
that a lonely bachelor was the last individual she should have sought
aid from. But her look of haggardness, the teeth pressed into her lips,
the clenched hands, the chin carried forward in an expression of
agonized supplication rebuked my egotism.

"I--I don't know," I confessed humbl