some threat--in every eye looking at me I
seemed to read some impatient question asked in brutal scorn. These
masses of men rushing by me this way and that--they hated me--longed to
trample me down and crush me into the dirt beneath their feet!--No, they
didn't.--And wouldn't?--Unless they found me in their path, and then
they'd wipe me from it with scarce a thought--yes, and rush on without a
sign, without knowledge of my obliteration.--Well, it wasn't worth
struggling against--the odds were too great.--And anyway, what
difference did it make?

I felt a touch on my shoulder, and almost screamed. It was St. Clair
Mowbray. I don't like him much, but any companion was a friend just
then, so we walked along together, he chatting and I silent.

As we passed the Metropolitan Opera House a line of people stretched
from the box-office out into the street.

"What fools," said Mowbray, "they must want tickets damned badly to do
that. Don't they look like a chain gang?"

"More like the bread line at Fleischmann's," I answered gloomily.

"Yes--but better bred."

Mowbray chuckled approvingly at his sally.

I parted with him at the next corner feeling his wit would not appeal to
me that evening.

IV.

The Club disappointed me. I thought companionship would relieve, but it
only served to aggravate my loneliness. Everything talked about seemed
local and trivial, and everybody appeared to sail under a different flag
of interest. So after enduring this as long as possible I wandered out,
walking down town for no other reason than to be among people I didn't
know and who didn't know me--a hair-of-the-dog-that-bit-you cure for
loneliness.

A conservative investor once told me there was no better or safer
property than a cheap lodging-house on the Bowery. Possibly my informant
imparted his discovery to others, for the number of these establishments
has increased tremendously during the last few years. But when many
Conservative Investors undertake to walk the same road, the result is
usually the elimination of some of them--only those, of course, who
are not really entitled to be termed conservative. This sorting of the
just from the unjust does not occur, however, until the Malthusian
Doctrine needs a business illustration. As I walked along the
east-side thoroughfare and noted the lodging-houses packed to their
utmost capacity, I concluded that the number of applicants for such
accommodation must have increased in a manner